


For the First Time

by i_amtheoutlaw



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Season 8, Season gr8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After falling, Cas finds the bunker. </p><p>But happens after that?</p><p>Feels.<br/>Teeth brushing.<br/>Shopping.<br/>Cussing.<br/>Erections.<br/>iPhone's.</p><p>and most importantly . . . </p><p>life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gravity is Undeniable

**Author's Note:**

> This has all been beta-ed by the lovely Mad_Hatter_Usagi!!! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas falls and finds the bunker.

Cas has been walking for hours and crying for even longer, it's taken him almost two days to relocate the Winchester's new home without his grace. Now, leaning on the closed doorway to support himself, Cas contemplates knocking. Once again, Cas has messed everything up, and once again Dean tried to warn him, tried to get Cas to think things through. But of course Cas, being the ignorant, not to mention arrogant, angel he was, didn't listen. He knows Dean must have seen the angels falling and Cas can’t even picture how Dean’s going to react when he opens the door and sees Cas on the other side. If he had his wings right now he would probably fly off, but here Cas is, sweaty and tired, with nowhere else to go. He needs Dean now in every way imaginable. Like Dean once needed Cas to keep _him_ safe, but he probably won't need him anymore, since he’s now powerless and useless. Cas, with tears still rolling down his cheeks, straightens up and adjusts his trench; looks at the hard wood in front of him, sucks down his worries, and knocks on the door.

\--

Dean’s pacing back and forth, stressing about Cas and Sammy. He's been a nervous wreck since he saw all the angels fall two days ago and Sam isn't getting any better. Sam hasn’t been able to get out of bed for the past two days, and Cas is nowhere to be found. Dean’s called hunters, psychics, anyone he can think of to try and locate the fallen angel, but no dice; leaving Dean starting to lose his mind without his family intact, and pacing back a forth like its actually going to help his situation. Dean’s been at the same pace for around thirty minutes, contemplating his next course of action. Nothing is coming to mind, and then suddenly a loud, unfamiliar knock startles him out of his on-going thought process. Dean instantly springs towards the noise, the pounding gets louder as Dean rushes towards it. He knows it can only be one of two people, Charlie or Cas, he's praying to God—who Dean knows is long gone—that it's Cas. 

He swings the door open to find Cas red-eyed and dirtier than Dean has ever seen him. Cas is maintaining his composure better than Dean expected, since he was imaging so many terrible things, including Cas already popping pills, or drunk like the Cas he met in 2014. But Cas looks sober, just tired and out of tears. Cas meets Dean’s eyes and begins to sniffle and softly cry. Seeing the angel— _former angel— whatever_ Cas is, with salty tears streaming down his cheeks almost makes Dean lose it himself. 

\--

Dean opens the door and for a moment all Cas's worries are gone. He sees Dean and, at first, becomes overwhelmed with warmth and happiness. _Feelings,_ Cas realizes, feelings he’s never felt in all his years of being an angel. 

When Cas focuses in closer, he sees the way Dean’s face is wrinkled from all the worrying; and the guilt, the nasty bitterness that’s been stinging Cas’s insides these past two days, takes hold of Castiel again. He looks in Dean’s eyes, something he's yet to do as a human, and this time he sees _nothing._ Normally he can see a reflection of Dean’s thoughts, Cas had always been able to see what Dean’s feeling; but this time he only sees Dean.

Castiel stares, and all he sees are beautiful green eyes that are beginning to grow teary, and a thick five o’clock shadow. He sees a chiseled jaw and sharply defined cheek bones sprinkled with light freckles. Cas sees the man he once raised from perdition, but this time as he stands in front of the righteous man, it’s different than all the others times before. This time he’s numb to the hunter, Cas can't feel Dean at all, only himself. 

The only thing Cas is feeling is his heart stop. For a minute Cas thinks he might actually die, that his heart might actually be falling out of his chest; but he soon realizes it’s nothing but a sensation and, even though Cas is trying so hard to hold back, he instantly start to cry.

\--

Dean, not wanting to see Cas like this, reaches out and grabs him by his tattered trench coat’s lapel with a firm, sweaty fist, and pulls Cas in close. Noting the feeling the former angel’s new found heat against him. Cas actually hugs back this time, and Dean soaks up every new, lean muscle he can now feel. After instantly wrapping and holding Cas in his arms, Dean squeezes him as tight as he can. Dean never meant for this to happen, and he wants to put every inch of his regret into this one action. 

This is all his fault, he thought, if he wouldn't have pushed Cas away, because of his own anger the last time the angel visited, then he never would’ve ran off and signed up with Metatron in the first place. Dean, feeling tears sting his eyes, fights back his own desire to cry and holds Cas even tighter. Trying his very best to let Cas know everything will be alright by pressing their rapid heartbeats together. 

If only he and Cas could ever be on the same page. Dean feels like ever since he met the angel they’ve either been one step behind, or one step in front of each other. Dean wants to comfort Cas, but he has no clue where to start. 

Still in contemplation, Dean decides, when nothing better comes to mind, to start with something small and simple by saying, "it's okay Cas, it's not your fault." 

Cas pulls back a bit, although keeping his arms still firmly around Dean, and gazes quizzically up at him. 

"What did you just say?" Cas asks. 

"I said it’s not your fault," Dean repeats, letting his tight hold falter a little to back up and get a better look at Cas. 

\--

Cas, unlike the first time, stops his crying and actually listens. He listens to Dean’s words, words that Dean has said to Cas on multiple occasions, but this time something’s different. Something new inside Cas has burst open, something warm and delightful. A sensation of pure bliss, that’s overwhelming and just plain strange. 

"Say that again," Cas asks as he looks back up and meets Dean’s steady gaze.

Dean looks up as if he’s contemplating his actions for a second, then brings his unfaltering, green eyes back down to meet Cas’s and repeats himself again. 

Upon hearing Dean’s forgiving words again, Cas instantly smiles, because he realizes what's different this time. Unlike as angel, when Cas was far too stuffed with grace, keeping him overly-humble; this time, Dean’s words sink in, this time Cas can actually allow himself to believe what Dean’s saying.

Whereas before, though Cas would act like he believed Dean, he really wouldn’t, knowing deep inside that Dean was wrong. This time, after feeling that peaceful burst inside of him Cas was actually able to. 

Cas also realizes that what he's feeling warming and probing his insides are probably emotions, which are what Dean feels all the time, and they are _tiresome,_ Cas admits to himself. 

\--

Cas gives Dean a small smile, and sniffles as he wipes his nose onto his filthy sleeve, "you really think so?" Cas asks. 

Dean is beyond shocked by Cas's reaction, since he’s expecting Cas to stay resistant like he always has when Dean tries to comfort him. But, ignoring the strange change in Cas, Dean offers him an equally matching toothy smile; and trying to spill out every ounce of heart Dean can manage into his reply he says, "yeah Cas, I mean Metatron had me fooled too." 


	2. Choking on Toothpaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has an interesting encounter with minty bubbles, not to mention stubborn blood flow.

Even though Cas knows, as an angel, he never would’ve believed Dean; he lets himself believe this time because that's what his body is pushing him to do, and it’s the easiest thing to do. Being able to agree with Dean—finally—after all these years of disputes might help Cas mend their ongoing broken relationship.

Dean lets go of Cas, and Cas reluctantly pulls away, following the hunter inside. Cas is now and will forever be more than grateful to have Dean. Not all humans are as forgiving and caring as Dean is, but Cas supposes that he’s only correct in thinking that, after all Dean is the righteous man. 

Silence fills the spaces around them, intertwining in all the crevasses, sending Cas uneasy rumbles through his chest. Leaving him scared, awkward, and wanting to break the steady quiet. Cas wants to ask Dean about Sam but he can't bring himself to. Cas has no clue whether Dean was able to stop his brother from completing the trials or not; and even if Dean had stopped Sam, Cas has no idea what kind of condition Sam would be in. Anything is better than dead, he thinks. He finds, as a human, it's harder to ask the ‘difficult questions.’ This being one of those, as an angel he wouldn’t bat an eye at asking such a simple three worded question, ‘how is Sam?’ Now, however, despite how many times Cas tells himself, ‘it's okay just ask,’ he can't bring himself to ask. 

Cas, finally gaining the courage, opens his mouth to speak but just as he does, Dean’s cell phone starts to ring. Dean pulls his phone out of its snug place in his left jean pocket and answers quickly; before Dean can even form a ‘hello,’ Cas hears a babbling, high pitch voice squeaking through the tiny speaker at mile a minute. 

Cas studies Dean, normally—Cas thinks— this sort of thing would piss Dean off, but not this voice on the other line. Dean just shifts and listens intently to the ongoing sentences protruding from the other end of the line. 

Finally, Dean sighs, and gives the person an answer, "yes we're all fine Charlie, well at least not dead, and definitely not monster food." 

That gives Cas his answer about Sam and he lets out a relieved sigh. Dean notices and flashes Cas a small smile. 

The voice gets going again, then Dean says, "Ok see you then, be careful," and hangs up the phone. 

"Who's Charlie?" Cas asks and he's not quite sure why that's the first question that surfaces, but it is. Surely as an angel he never would have been concerned with a mysterious voice on the phone.

Dean gives Cas a soft smile and replies, "she’s a friend of mine and Sam’s, a good friend." 

Cas smiles back at Dean’s dapper expression; but something, telling Cas he should be scowling instead, tightens in his gut. Yet another feeling Cas wishes he didn't have to identify, "Oh, I didn't realize you had any friends I didn't know." Cas adds, giving in a little to the demands of his new emotions.

"Well you're about to meet her," Dean looks at the clock on his phone, "in about twenty minutes, so boot up." 

Cas scrunches his brow, and looks at Dean quizzically. _Why would Cas possibly need to put on boots to meet one of Dean’s lady friends?_

Dean’s concerned face lightens, seeming to understand Cas’s confusion, and he laughs softly to himself before providing an answer to Cas's blank stare, “she’s—ah—just a little intense.” 

Cas nods in understanding, he really needs to write down every human expression he doesn’t understand and study them to avoid looking stupid in the future. Dean smiles back at Cas, a sort of light, toothy smile; a smile Cas has seen many times before, but now, as his and Dean’s eyes meet, is sending a funny, tingling sensation straight to Cas’s gut.

"Well first thing’s first I guess," Dean closes the small gap between them and begins to take Cas's trench coat off, "you smell disgusting man." 

After Dean gets Cas to the bathroom he starts to explain the basics, which instantly turns Cas's mood sour because honestly, does Dean really think Cas is a baby in a trench coat without his powers? He's been watching humanity for his whole life, Cas knew the correct way to take a shower before all the humans even figured it out.

"I know how to shower Dean,” Cas begins sourly, “just because I don't have powers anymore doesn't mean I'm a baby." Cas finishes as sternly as possible, keeping his eyes on Dean, whose expression instantly falls into to one of the saddest looks Cas has ever received from the hunter.

"Look Cas I never should have said those things to you, okay?” Dean begins, “Because I didn't mean them at all. Even without your powers you are the smartest, most kick ass guy I know," Dean tells Cas, giving him a little smile. But Cas doesn't smile back because he doesn't believe Dean one bit, because Cas is weak, and definitely not 'kick ass’ now.

"Then why did you say those things? If you didn't mean them," Cas asks, still staring Dean down. 

Dean instantly gets uneasy as soon as the words leave Cas's mouth, Cas can tell by the way Dean’s shoulders tense that Dean doesn't want to answer the question. But Cas isn't going to back down, he needs to know.

"I guess I just didn't want you being reckless and getting hurt." Dean answers after a moment, though his words are quick and rushed. 

Before Cas has time reply Dean is talking again and moving towards the door, "anyways, Charlie's gonna be here soon…so get yourself washed up and come out here when you’re done. Remember to put my clothes on before you come out, I left some on the counter for you. We don't want Charlie abandoning her lifelong goal of picking up pretty women just because she catches a glimpse of you. She already thinks you sound dreamy."

Again, before Cas can even ask why Charlie's biggest goal would be picking up women—because honestly who picks up women for fun? It seems very tiring on the back—Dean is slamming the door in his face. Leaving Cas full of questions and starting to sweat again from the steamy shower running next to him.

\--

Dean cleans up a bit while Cas is showering so everything looks good for when Charlie gets there. All Dean can think about is the conversation Cas and him just had. _'I’m so fucking stupid,'_ Dean thinks to himself, _'I really need to watch what I say.'_ After wiping all the countertops Dean finally hears the Vader intro of their secret knock at the door. He races up the stairs two at a time and swings the heavy wooden door open to find Charlie on the other side, standing bright eyed and a bushy tailed as ever.

She leaps at Dean with all her intensity and grabs him up in the biggest hug her little arms can manage, "Deeeeaan!" She shrieks, "I've missed your punk ass so much!" 

Dean smiles warmly against her soft, red hair and wraps her up in his arms with the same intensity right back, "you too, Charlie," Dean replies, after a couple of seconds of taking in the smell of lavender shampoo and bubblegum lip balm that is Charlie’s unforgettable aroma. 

Dean escorts the hacker to what they call the living room and makes sure she is nice, comfy, and has a drink in her hands before he spills the news. 

“Cas is here,” Dean blurts out rather randomly, but he couldn't really think of any other way to bring it up. 

Dean realizes that it was probably a bad idea, getting Charlie a drink first, because now she’s choking, and the coke she meant to swallow is shooting out her nose and landing all over Dean’s favorite rug. 

"Wait, what!?" she nearly screams, and then takes a minute to wipe her face on the black sleeve of her hoodie before continuing, "like the angel Castiel?" she asks once her face is ridden of all the sticky beverage. 

"Yeah that one, but some shit just recently happened and he's actually not an angel anymore so just avoid bringing that up for now, okay? I promise I'll explain," Dean tells her and Charlie nods. The last thing Dean needs right now is to start crying to Charlie about 2014, when Cas could be out of the shower any minute. 

Quickly moving on to the next subject, being the awesome friend she is, Charlie asks, "So I know you know about Carver Edlund’s books, but have you ever heard of a Supernatural convention?"

Dean laughs from his spot across the table and explains, "yeah Charlie, been there, done that." 

Charlie smirks, and pulls out her phone, and starts searching through it quickly. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she clicks on it and then smirks even more deviously to herself before holding it up to show Dean.

If Dean would have been drinking something, then they definitely would be having a repeat of what just happened with Charlie. Because plastered across Charlie’s screen is a picture of two _guys_ , one dressed up like Dean, from the brown leather jacket to the beaten boots. The other one is dressed up like Cas, backwards tie and all. But these men pretending to be them isn’t the worse part—the worst part is that they’re _kissing!_ —fucking _making out!_

In the corner of the picture Dean sees Charlie smirking with her thumb up, clearly taking the picture with her front camera. Dean looks up to see Charlie wearing the same smug grin she has on in the picture. 

"What the hell Charlie!" Dean forcefully yells, while shoving the phone back at her. Charlie just cracks up, and right when she opens her mouth to answer Dean, Cas enters the room. 

"Cas!" Charlie shrieks, and instantly darts over and wraps him up in her arms, "I know you don't know me but I feel like I already know you, well with how much Dean talks about you!" Charlie pulls off and adds, "I'm Charlie by the way." 

\--

The shower proves to be more of a task then Cas realized. Maybe he should have taken Dean’s advice after all. First off, the water is too hot, so Cas turns the knob upward towards the blue stripe indicating ‘cold.’ Only, then the water turns icy and Cas is seriously tempted just to get out and say screw the whole ordeal. But Dean did say he stunk, and Cas really doesn't want to give this Charlie girl a bad impression. Now that Cas is human he figures he needs Dean’s friends to like him; friends being a necessity to people who can’t fly anywhere and smite anyone they want. So Cas messes with the knob a few more times until he's found a degree that's tolerable, ending up with a lukewarm spray washing down on him. 

Next comes shampoo. Cas grabs the black bottle labeled _shampoo,_ and begins scrubbing his scalp. The suds feel good massaging his head, that is, until a painful, burning sensation starts swelling in his eye. Again this small, human task has outsmarted him. He quickly rinses his burning eye, along with his soapy hair, out under the heavy spray; regretting yet again his decision to believe Metatron. Cas grabs the bar of soap next and lathers himself up, and then rinses under the spray a few more times for good measure.

Cas steps out carefully, making sure not to slip on the wet tile. The last possible thing Cas needs right now is a fractured skull. One time he saw Dean slip like this, as the hunter rushed to get out of the shower, and it looked like Dean had been in so much pain. Cas wanted nothing more than to go to Dean and heal him. Although Cas was too scared, and far too ashamed to let Dean know he'd snooped in on his shower time. Dean gets weirded out by Cas watching over him while he sleeps, Cas can’t even imagine how angry Dean would be if he caught Cas lurking around during his shower time. Later on, the night Cas had seen Dean fall, Cas stopped in and pretended to notice the lump on Deans head. After pleading with Dean for nearly fifteen minutes, Dean finally gave in and let Cas heal it. 

Cas dries off, finishing off the process by ruffling his sopping hair with the fluffy, damp towel. Cas takes a few careful strides and reaches the sink, looking up to find the mirror. Cas stunned by his own reflection, how his now wet hair is sticking up and flying aimlessly around his head. Cas tries to mash it down by using his damp, wrinkled hands to smash the stuck up, misbehaving hairs; but his efforts prove to be pointless and after a few minutes he finally gives up, with his hair still looking wrecked. 

Taking a minute to look over his new body he notices, for the first time, his nakedness and wonders if this is how Eve felt the first time that she, too, realized she was showing parts that she shouldn’t. Cas is experiencing a strange, and overwhelming feeling, that keeps shouting in his head, ‘look at you, you’re not even good enough to be a human.’ 

Cas has never looked at his own body like this before, now starting to better identify his new feelings and emotions, he realizes this overwhelming one he feels now is brand new. Feeling what he can only label as _embarrassed,_ Cas self-consciously compares Jimmy’s—well his—body to Dean’s. 

This giving him less comfort than before, only leaving Cas with a further disintegrating ego, when he realizes that Dean is way stronger than him now and Dean also knows how to make his hair look good all the time; which Cas is clearly incapable of. 

Still gazing in the mirror Cas thinks back to all the times Crowley called him flattering pet names, and how that old women called him pretty, and Cas wonders for the first time if he actually is—by human definitions—handsome? The old lady had thought she was talking to someone named Charles, so that really can’t be used as evidence. Cas also decides Crowley’s flattery can’t be used because Crowley has pet names for everyone, including some rather wild ones for Sam and Dean. Cas, although, does have one piece of evidence to support his human cuteness. A piece he has forever kept at the back of his mind, willing himself not to think about. 

It was the time when Dean had almost said yes to Michael, Cas and Sam were locking Dean up in Bobby’s panic room. Cas, nearly on the edge of exploding because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Dean anymore, was enraged and starring Dean down with all the wrath of heaven. Dean, being Dean, of course had to make a joke out of the situation by saying, “you know Cas, last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” 

Cas has never let himself think about that moment again, until now at least— and now— more than ever with all these new emotions bursting inside of him, Cas is confused. But he figures there is no use dwelling on it, and Cas, with his new found feelings especially won’t be able to figure it out; so he lets his thoughts drift a bit.

Cas checks out his shoulders, they are way smaller than Dean’s, but are still rather broad. He looks down at his own left shoulder, the corresponding shoulder to where Cas knows his hand print still reddens Dean’s skin. After acknowledging this, Cas instantly gets all tingly inside his abdomen area. 

He, Castiel, was the one to pull the righteous man out of hell; and what a righteous man Dean turned out to be, Cas thinks. Thoughts of when he claimed Dean’s soul warm his belly now, causing violent tugs from his neurons; telling Cas to move the muscles in his cheeks and grin. A new feeling, different than the tingling, pulls tightly at his lower stomach muscles. 

Cas notices a movement in the mirror and looks down to find himself fully aroused and—to say the least—Cas freaks. Not wanting to touch his new found hardness and make the situation worse, Cas throws his hands up instead and grips his hair tightly, messing up the wet mess more. If Dean ever knew about this he would _kill_ Cas. Dean already lectured Cas about watching porn in front of him, saying ‘dude you can’t watch porn in front of other guys,’ Cas can only imagine Dean’s reaction to finding him fully aroused from solely thinking about Dean. 

Cas quickly changes his thought process to his brothers and sisters who fell along with him. His whole mindset shifts instantly and it only takes him a minute of thinking about all the other Angels who don’t have a home as welcoming as Sam and Dean’s to come home to, to soften Cas back to normal. 

Now a little sad, but mostly relieved that Dean won’t find out, Cas gets dressed. Dean’s shirt hangs loosely around him, but it smells like cheap detergent, and sugary apples. Cas never realized before, but the smell of Dean is probably the best smell his nose has come across yet. Cas takes a few long sniffs and feels the steady tug at his stomach again. Quickly halting his smelling, Cas finishes dressing, sliding easily into Dean’s boxers and trying his best to not think about how tight they fit him—and Cas certainly _isn’t_ thinking about how tight they must be on Dean—not a bit. 

Thankfully, Dean must have foreseen his jeans being too big on Cas because Dean left a belt. All Cas has left now is the task of brushing his teeth, which shouldn’t be so hard, _right?_ Cas squeezes the toothpaste out slowly, and patiently, yet somehow an ungodly amount still plumps itself on top of the bristles. Not wanting to waste it Cas sticks the whole ordeal in his mouth and scrubs. The minty-ness makes Cas want to puke, and then some of the foaming bubbles try and slip their way down his throat causing Cas a gagged out choke. White bubbles fly all over the bathroom, splattering the mirror and marble counter top. 

“Damn it!” Cas swears with the toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth. Normally he isn’t the swearing type but being human seems to have already changed that. 

He spits the rest of his toothpaste into the sink, and cleans up the mess he made. The last thing Cas wants is to do is explain how he covered Dean’s bathroom in white stuff by choking on his toothbrush. 

Stepping out of the bathroom Cas hears loud, high-pitched laughter. That must be Charlie, Cas thinks, alright- game time. 

Cas enters the living room, and sees one of the most beautiful, cheery women he’s ever laid eyes on. The female, _Charlie,_ warms Cas by giving him a wide, toothy grin. 

"Cas!" Charlie basically shrieks and instantly leaps forward to wrap her small arms around him. Being in her embrace is calming, but it’s nothing like Dean’s was—comforting, needy, and all-fixing—hers is more exciting, friendly, and welcoming.

"I know you don't know me but I feel like I already know you, well with how much Dean talks about you!" Charlie says, and Cas’s heart flutters. Maybe he doesn’t have to get Charlie to like him; maybe Dean already said enough good things about Cas that she will automatically like him. "I'm Charlie by the way," she adds as she pulls away.

Now feeling a bit awkward out of Charlie’s tight embrace, Cas steps back a bit, “ugh nice to meet you too?” he says because Cas isn’t really sure what the customary reply is when someone jumps him, tells him they already know who he is, and tells him what their name is. 

She continues to warmly smile in his direction, and then she reaches up and runs her hand through his hair. Cas’s cheeks instantly start to blush realizing his hair is still stuck up like it was in the bathroom, and he remembers what he was going to ask Dean if Charlie wasn’t here when he got done showering, turning to Dean he says “Will you show me how to do my hair like yours?” He directs his gaze towards Dean’s perfectly neat, spiked hair, “I can’t get it to stay like how it used to correctly.” 

“Sure,” Dean answers almost immediately, “but I was just about to make us some dinner, you gotta be hungry right?” Dean asks, and Cas nods, because—yes—he is so hungry. “Okay then I’ll go whip us up some burgers, and you can get to know Charlie a little.”

Before Cas can answer Dean is turning, and striding off towards the kitchen, yelling behind to Cas, “and I promise I’ll show you later.”


	3. Bouncy Red Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Instantly, Cas pictures some priest in the future reading something like, ‘then Sam caressed the demon’s breast,’ ‘Dean and Sam creep next to the random car, smashing the window open and stealing themselves a new ride,’ or something like ‘Dean gazed deeply into the angel’s eyes thinking about how much he lo—no’ _wait what?"_

Cas is worried things are going to be awkward, but they’re not. Charlie is really good at talking, and Cas wishes he could keep a conversation like Charlie can. She tells him how she met Sam and Dean, apparently she ‘kicked some serious leviathan ass with them.’ Then she goes on to tell Cas that Charlie isn’t actually her name, but it’s her favorite name she’s ever gone by, and the one she was using when she first met the Winchesters. She also explains why she has to switch names all the time, it’s got something to do with ‘sticking it to the man.’

She also tells Cas a story about Dean and Sam randomly running into her at her LARPing game. Charlie goes on to explain all about LARPing, apparently ‘it’s the best shit ever thought of,’ and ‘Dean and Sam are seriously the best at it.’ ‘They seriously almost caused the other teams to piss their pants,’ Cas isn’t exactly sure he’s following everything Charlie’s saying but he gets the jist of it, and Cas can picture, very vividly, Dean in a medieval costume. He totally _doesn’t_ get that pooling tug in his gut again. 

When Charlie finally pauses and Cas has the opportunity, he speaks up, “I’m really glad I met you, I mean, it’s nice to meet people Dean’s so fond of.”

“Thank you, I’m glad we met too, I’ve really been dying to,” Charlie shoots him a delighted smile. Cas, for a second, almost stays quiet and doesn’t tell her the rest that’s on his mind but his curiosity gets the best of him.

“I was really nervous to meet you, earlier Dean told me you were,” air quote, “intense,” air quote, “and that I shouldn’t leave the bathroom without dressing first because you thought I was dreamy and I might ruin your lifelong dream of picking up girls,” Cas lets out a long breath, but he keeps going because Charlie looks very interested, and almost amused. “And I just don’t get why you would pick up girls for fun, I mean isn’t that hard on the back? And do you really think I’m dreamy? Because I was just looking at myself in the mirror and, I just, I don’t really know. It’s stupid,” He finishes. 

That’s it, Cas has officially struck out in maintaining his angel-ness. First not even being able to take a freaking shower correctly, then nearly choking on freaking toothpaste, and now spilling his freaking guts out to this girl he just met. Oh, and apparently Cas is thinking in swear words now also.

Charlie burst into laughter before Cas has too much time to fret, “Dean knows me better than that,” she gets out in between her laughs, “like I would _ever_ give up on the ladies.”

_Oh!_ Of course, “you’re homosexual,” Cas says aloud as he discovers it. She continues to chuckle but her giggles are slowing down rapidly. 

“What a bright one you are,” she jokes and Cas feels the warmness of red creeping up his cheeks again, “and yes, I thought you sounded very dreamy, and you are nearly a perfect specimen of man, you have nothing to worry about in that department.” 

The blush that was creeping now covers Cas’s whole face almost instantly, and he turns to look at the floor, trying to hide his pleased smile. His efforts prove to be useless when Charlie moves to sit in the chair next to him and grabs Cas up by his chin and makes him look at her, saying, “I’m serious, the most important thing about owning a body is feeling comfortable in it.”

Then all of the sudden she’s up and twirling around the table singing some song Cas doesn’t recognize, bright red hair swooshing behind her. “And that’s how it’s done ladies, and gentleman,” Charlie adds as she plops back down in the chair next to him. 

Cas doesn’t know if Charlie knows the whole story, about him falling, but she definitely knows exactly what Cas needs to here, “you really are great you know that?” Cas tells her.

“Yes, I’ve heard,” she says smiling, “after all I am queen of Moondor.” 

Next Charlie asks Cas if he’s ever read Chuck’s books, only she calls him Carver Edlund. Cas says no, but he explains to her all about the times he’s met Chuck, the nervous mess Chuck is, and how all the books would one day be part of the Bible called the Winchester gospels. 

Charlie’s mouth drops in awe, and she literally squeals something like, ‘oh my Vulcan one day I’m gonna be in the Bible.’

“Wait so you mean you’re in the books? Does it say your name?” Cas asks—wait—“am I in the books?”

She grins rather, well, slyly and Cas almost thinks there’s something creepily knowing about it. “Why yes, Castiel, you are quite a huge friggin’ part of the books,” she explains.

Cas furrows his brow, why would he be in the books? The other parts of the Bible being written so poetically and vague; giving the reader room to use their own imagination in deciphering the meaning behind the words. A lot of the Archangels never even get mentioned by name, so why would Castiel?

“Um, well let’s see here, you—freakin’ badass I might add—pulled Dean’s fat ass out of hell, full on rebelled against heaven just because you believed in Dean so much,” she itches her nose then continues, “it’s just really beautiful, Chuck romanticized it so much.”

“What do you mean romanticized it?” Cas asks, Cas always thought he was the only one who thought of their story as a classic tale about love, loss, and desire. 

“Well I mean, he just, well he totally kinda of makes you guys gay for each other,” Charlie admits quickly and Cas almost chokes on thin air. 

Gay for each other? Like happy for each other? Or like together? Oh no, I guess that’s why Dean hates the books so much, of course Dean would hate the idea of him and Cas—you know— _getting together._ Dean’s made it almost overly obvious that he likes women, multiple times. 

Cas is nearly on the brink of hyperventilation. His eyes, surely, bulging out of his skull. Charlie reaches out and grabs his hand from her seat, “Whoa there, it’s not that deep, Chuck just must see things in his visions differently, you know?”

“Out of context,” Cas adds, but he doesn’t explain what he means. Charlie seems to understand enough, if the smug look on her face, and the way she twirls her finger through her fiery hair is anything to go by. 

They change the subject rather fast, because Charlie says, “I can’t imagine any super religious people reading those books.”

“Why not?” Cas asks, and before Charlie starts to answer she’s already grinning. “Its just Sam and Dean live very _full_ lives, and Chuck is a very vivid writer,” she explains. 

Instantly, Cas pictures some priest in the future reading something like, ‘then Sam caressed the demon’s breast,’ ‘Dean and Sam creep next to the random car, smashing the window open and stealing themselves a new ride,’ or something like ‘Dean gazed deeply into the angel’s eyes thinking about how much he lo—no’ _wait what?_ No, definitely, not that. But anyway, the priest might actually die, and despite his little slip up, Cas cracks up at that image forming in his head.

Charlie soon joins in on Cas’s laughter, and they both have a good five minute laugh. Cas has never laughed like this, well at least not since that night at the brothel with Dean. The feeling of letting his, long past due, laughs out really warms Cas from the inside out and keeps an enormous grin plastered across his face.

As if on cue Charlie mentions something about that night at the brothel, “I was thinking about some super religious mom reading the chapter about the time Dean tried to get you to fuck a hooker.” 

Cas, now picturing the same thing, falls into near violent laughter this time. At least he didn’t actually sleep with the poor girl. 

“Can you imagine the look on that poor woman’s face, she’d be like ‘oh god, I really have to read this to my daughter someday?’” Charlie adds, and they both burst into laughter again.

With Cas and Charlie both howling still, they barely notice Dean enter the room with three plates stacked up his arms, until he sets them on the table with a loud clatter. They both abruptly cut out their giggles and look up at Dean.

“Looks like I’m missing out on the fun?” Dean smiles warmly, only looking at Cas, who looks back with a shy smile and a slight creeping redness coloring his cheeks again. Blushing is a strange feeling that he never experienced as an angel; but as it keeps happening Cas realizes he actually kind of likes it.

Dean doesn’t really seem to care that Cas and Charlie are having a good time without him, he’s just looks genuinely glad that they’re getting along.

\--

Dean’s honestly just extremely happy to see Cas talking at all. He can’t even fathom what it must feel like to have something so dear, something that’s been a part of Cas for so long, just suddenly stripped away. Dean remembers the Cas he met in 2014, and he never wants to let _his_ Cas turn into that. Not that Cas is _his_ or anything, just you know, from his time period. 

Cas, still blushing—and Dean totally _doesn’t_ think it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen—answers Dean, “We were actually just laughing about how you and Sam’s story is someday going to be read by priest and mothers, and according to Charlie, Chuck writes very vividly.”

“Yeah, I bet he does, fuckin’ creeper.” Dean adds before sitting down in the chair on the very end of the table, just to the left of Cas, and sliding his burger with him.

Dean has never read Chuck's books, at least not since that one weird ass time at the laundry mat. It kinda scares him honestly. The fact that Chuck can somehow magically see their lives. _Oh shit,_ a protruding thought enters his head and Dean internally freaks out at the new idea—what if Chuck can see what Dean’s thinking? Dean realizes he really needs to get his hands on some of these books. 

“It’s not the prophet’s fault he sees your life Dean,” Cas explains, “although it would help if he saw things in context.”

Cas is trying to hide a smile, until Charlie cracks up beside him. As Charlie breaks, Cas also lets himself burst into laughter. Which leads Dean to believe he’s been left out of yet another inside joke. 

Though Dean is confused, and obviously missing out on a lot of new jokes, he has still never been happier, this moment—looking between his two best friends cracking up—is perfect. Sure, Cas fell, and Sam’s still sick, but Sammy is gonna get better, Dean can tell; and Cas, well Cas looks happier than Dean’s ever seen him. Dean lets himself watch as Cas’s loud roars of laughter slowly fade into soft chuckles. He notices underneath Cas’s three day beard, the fallen angel’s hidden dimples, and his faint wrinkles. He can’t wait to see how Cas starts to age, Dean briefly wonders who will get grey hair first, him or Cas.

Cas’s long eyelashes catch Dean’s attention as they flutter open and closed with his fading laugher. He’s so beautif—Dean starts to think, but instantly cuts his thought short. Dean has always thought Cas is a handsome guy, but that doesn’t mean he needs to thinks about Cas _like that._ For all he knows Chuck is listening right now!

“I’m guessing I missed something,” Dean asks, glancing between a winded Cas and a giddy Charlie. 

“Oh yeah, big time,” Charlie explains, before Cas can answer. Dean is really hoping to hear about the inside joke from Cas. Although Cas never speaks up, instead letting his head drop and quickly starting in on the burger Dean made him.

Charlie and Cas both complement Dean on his superior chief skills. Cas is in total awe about how much flavor Dean’s burgers hold, Dean supposes that would be his reaction too, if the only kind of burger he ever ate was from white castle. 

Once they all have moved on to the fries, Cas asks about Sam, and Dean’s heart melts a bit. Even with Cas having so many issues of his own he still makes it a priority to ask about Sammy. Dean explains that he’s basically been asleep the whole time since the ordeal. But he reassures Cas and Charlie that Sammy’ll be fine. Going on to explain how the color in Sam’s face is almost completely back, and how today he actually got Sam to eat some breakfast.

Their plates are nearly done when Charlie, all of the sudden pipes up, asking “why don’t you let me take Cas to the mall and buy him some of his own clothes?”

Dean wants to disagree, wants to say ‘no, I’ll take Cas myself,’ but he knows Cas is in dire need of some clothes his own size, and someone needs to stay here with Sam, and Crowle— _oh fuck!_ Dean forgot to tell Cas about Crowley.

Dean agrees, only after asking Cas if that’s okay with him first, and Cas grins a big “yes, that would be lovely.”

“Good, cause I know if you take him shopping it’ll be somewhere that only sells freaking flannels and blue jeans,” Charlie declares, as she pushes her plate further away from her, indicating she’s ready to go, “Cas needs to know there are more places to shop then the salvation army.”

Charlie stands up and fixes herself, dramatically flipping her hair back in place. As she walks around to the other side of the table and grabs her bag, she hums. The way Charlie, no matter what’s going on around her, can always hum a happy beat is one of the hundred reasons why Dean loves her.

As Cas stands, Dean realizes he should probably inform them about the other two people living in the bunker, now rather than later. Cas is going to be pissed, but not as pissed as he would be if he found it out on his own, “hey, um, so there are some other new people living here too,” Dean spits out quickly. 

\--

“Who is it?” Charlie asks before Cas can. 

Dean, still looking at Cas, answers, “Crowley, and Kevin.”

No wonder Dean looks so worried, Cas definitely has a problem with that. The last time Cas saw Crowley the demon shot him and pulled the angel tablet out through his skin. Cas huffs a reply, “seriously? I thought Sam didn’t go through with it.”

“He didn’t, but since I didn’t do any of the other trials, curing a demon didn’t affect me like it would have Sammy. So I finished it.” Dean explains, eyes still focused on Cas.

Not feeling a very happy about sharing a home with the former demon, Cas huffs out a sound that resembles a growl, then turns to leave while stating, “whatever, but don’t expect me to be nice to him.”


	4. Crowded Malls and Girly Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam have a moment of truth, and Cas learns the joys of shopping.

With Charlie and Cas gone the bunker is quiet. _Too quiet_ , Dean thinks, as he laughs to himself. Dean cleans up the mess they just made, and plops down on his favorite seat; the biggest, most comfy chair located smack dab in the middle of their ‘research area.’ Dean figures he should probably go take Crowley the extra burger he made; but he just needs to relax for a few seconds first. Besides the former demon ain’t going anywhere, considering Dean locked him in the dungeon with an air mattress and lots of fluffy blankets; Crowley was a blubbering mess when Dean left him there, and has yet to be up any of the times Dean has gone to check on him over the past two days.

Humming Metallica, as he slowly rocks back and forth, Dean wonders what kind of clothes Cas is gonna buy. Today being one of the only times he’s ever seen Cas wear anything but the suit and the trench coat, Dean really doesn’t even have a clue what kind of style Cas would look good wearing. He figures if Cas can pull off his used up, one size too big clothes then Cas can probably pull off anything.

He pictures Cas in jeans and a Metallica shirt. Cas could _totally_ pull it off, Dean thinks. Using his imagination, Dean makes Cas’s pants a little tighter, and a little tighter, until they are full on skinny jeans. _And wow._ Cas could definitely pull off skinny jeans in a way Dean never could. 

Dean’s never really been into the whole ‘skater’ look or any ‘look’ for that matter. He’s always just stuck to his classic boot cut and whatever else is clean policy; but he wouldn’t be mad if Cas ends up having different taste than him. Knowing Charlie, Cas will probably come home with about ten items he actually wanted, and then an extra pile of lame-ass tee shirts that are all too brightly colored and tell stupid jokes.

But just as he loves Charlie’s stupid shirt collecting—hoarder shit—really, Dean would love Cas’s too; because—even though the jokes are dumb—they always can at least make him smile, and seeing them on Cas would always make him laugh. He can already imagine how it would go . . . 

_Dean rushes around the kitchen starting the coffee, toasting some bagels, and making everything’s ready for everyone when they get up. Hearing footsteps slapping the wood floor behind him, Dean whips around to find a completely bed fucked Cas—_ did he just think bed-fucked? Honestly?— _scratching the mess of clumpy dark tuffs that is his hair. Cas even has faint red marks indented into his face and arm from getting wrapped up in the sheets._

_Stretching and letting out a loud yawn, Cas places himself in a chair at the small kitchen table, and ask for some coffee in his deep, growl of a morning voice. Dean pours Cas a cup, and adds two spoon sized scoops of sugar, hoping Cas likes his coffee that same way Dean does. Joining Cas at the table, Dean slides Cas his coffee and watched him lean forward with his elbows supporting himself as he blows on the steaming liquid first to cool it down._

_Dragging his eyes from Cas’s chapped lips, Dean locates Cas’s bright purple shirt with the words ‘Solo’ written in giant Star Wars font, and a picture of Han Solo totally shredding it on the guitar. Dean actually kind of burst out in laughter, causing Cas to glare up at him._

_“What?” Cas asks grumpily._

_“Your shirt is great,” Dean says, gesturing towards Cas’s wrinkled shirt._

_Cas looks down at it and shrugs, “you can have it, I never really understood it,” Cas admits, as he looks back up at Dean. “I only wear it to sleep in.”_

_Dean doesn’t know why, but he thinks it’s the cutest thing that Cas doesn’t get it, and as he leans in across the table, he whispers “we are watching Star Wars tonight.”_

_Then Dean moves the final few inches and lets his lips meet with—_

Okay end scene, Dean thinks; but all up until that last little, ugh, mishap was perfect. 

Just as Dean’s thinking maybe he should get himself a stupid shirt collection with Han Solo playing a solo somewhere in it, a loud crash from down the hall startles him. Dean, leaping out of the chair, grabs the pistol he always keeps under this recliner and rushes towards the sound. 

Dean runs to Sam’s room first, and sure enough he finds Sam up and bug-eyed, trying to clean up spilled water off the floor with his sweat towel.

Dean lowers his gun, and Sam shoots him a half-hearted smile, then goes back to mopping up the wet wood floor. 

“You know,” Sam starts as he stands up and hands the dirty towel over to Dean, “you really have issues.”

Dean gives Sam a questioning look, but shoves the gun down into his jeans and takes the wet towel anyways. Sam laughs, and _oh_ , it’s so great to hear his little brothers laugh again. Just another reminder that Sammy’s still breathing, and not dead because of some stupid trials that Dean should have been doing in the first place.

Sam gestures towards Dean’s gun, “this is like our home, you know that right? You don’t have to pull a gun every time something spills Dean,” Sam explains as he—like a friggin’ drama queen—rolls his eyes. “Being paranoid isn’t gonna help me get better, or help you find Cas any sooner,” Sam adds. 

And Dean, trying his hardest not to smile, replies to Sam’s first remark, “Like you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if our positions were switched.”

Sam shrugs his shoulders, “touché.”

Now, not being able to hide his happiness any longer, Dean lets himself grin ear to ear. Sam looks a little scared honestly, but Dean doesn’t care. Dropping the bomb as casually as possible Dean says, “Besides your logic is irrelevant…considering Cas already showed up.”

Not even a second after the words leave Dean’s mouth, he sees them register in Sam’s head.

“Wait. What?” Sam asks, but instead of waiting for an answer, Sam leaps into action, barreling past Dean and down the hallway. 

Dean’s cracking up, and he hears Sam from the other room, “CAS!” A five second pause and Dean can picture Sam frantically looking around, “CAAAASSSSSS?”

Only a second later Sam is storming back down the hallway, and stopping in front of Dean, who is blocking the entry way to Sam’s room by leaning against the door frame.

Sammy is beyond pissed and Dean, still laughing, is really not sorry. He shouldn’t mess with his brother like this, especially while Sam is healing, but Dean can’t help himself. Practically radiating anger, Sam gives Dean a ‘what the hell man’ bitch face, and crosses his arms. 

“Dean that’s not freaking funny,” Sam starts, and Dean is biting his tongue now to keep from laughing, “Cas’s life isn’t something you should joke about. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Finally deciding to let go of the prank Dean lets his laughter free, and begins to explain, “whoa, easy now,” Dean says as he pats Sam on the shoulder.

Quickly shoving Dean’s hand away, Sam growls, “no I’m not going to take it freaking easy when you’re joking about the love of yo—“

“Sammy, Cas was here—“

_Whoa, whoa, whoa._ What just about came out of Sammy’s mouth?

“What the hell were you about to say?” Dean spits up at his taller brother. 

“I’m not telling you until you explain what happened to Cas,” Sam sends back down to Dean, “please tell me you didn’t let him go anywhere.”

_Fine,_ Dean thinks as he studies Sam’s stern expression, “Cas is fine, he’s out shopping with Charlie, they should be back in a little bit.”

Letting out a relieved sigh, Sam pushes past Dean and sits down on the edge of his bed. Bringing one hand up to pinch his nose. Even though Sam is acting tired, Dean’s not worried, because Sam hasn’t looked this good in months. 

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Sam asks, letting his hand drop back down onto the fluffy mattress beneath him. 

Dean knows, he has always known that he’s a jerk. Just like he’s always known Sammy’s a bitch. Moving around the room, Dean finds his way to the other side of Sam’s bed. Dean, kicking his already untied boots onto the floor, lays back on Sam’s bed. Leaning all the way into the pillow and stretching out all of his overused muscles, Dean closes his eyes, “Yeah, I know bitch…now tell me what you were gonna say?” 

Dean has an idea, it sure sounded a lot like Sam was going to say something like, ‘the love of your life Dean,’ but that couldn’t possibly be right. Sam knows Dean would do anything, or die any time to save Cas; just like Dean would do for Sammy. Dean loves Cas like he would a brother— _ew, gross_ —a voice in Dean’s mind suddenly goes off. _Would you really think about how good Sam would look in skinny jeans?_ The voice asks, and Dean calms himself by thinking, _well of course I wouldn’t, because Sam would just look fucking stupid in skinny jeans._

Ignoring this inner voice, Dean turns back to his brother, who’s now turned around and facing him. Sam’s large body supports itself by leaning on the cherry wood bed frame, his long legs are folded awkwardly around each other, trying to make their way into some sort of ‘Indian style,’ and failing miserably. 

Being in a room like this, a room that wasn’t half-assedly cleaned by maids or still reeking of the sex whoever stayed before them had, with his brother next to him makes Dean want to explode with happiness. They finally have somewhere, a home—a freaking bad ass home—a place to relax and feel safe. Ever since he can remember, it’s always been one of Dean’s biggest goals to get Sammy a nice, permanent place to live. Dean thought that goal was long unreachable after Singer Salvage burnt down; and it almost seems unreal that they have a place like this now. Although it is real, and Dean will forever be grateful to the Men of Letters for being total bad asses and leaving them a perfect home. Because with this place over his head, Sam getting better, Cas permanently being stuck here, Kevin actually being able to sleep eight hours a night, and Charlie coming around more often Dean realizes he’s actually content for once in his life. The feeling is awesome, all he needs now is a beer and he’ll be feeling perfect.

Sam speaks up bringing Dean out of his bliss, “Well,” Sam says, and then stops to clear his throat, “um, weeeelllll….”

Sam stops, and looks down at his bare feet that are being smashed awkwardly by his gigantic legs. As if contemplating on what to say, Sam swings his head up, opens his mouth for a second, and then drops his neck back down to stare at his toes, which Dean now notices Sam starting to wiggle around. Which Sam _always_ wiggles his toes when he’s nervous. _Oh great,_ this is going to be fantastic Dean thinks. Although the other voice inside Dean’s head is laughing.

Just as Dean’s about to tell Sammy ‘forget it,’ Sam finds his courage and blurts out, “okay, don’t get mad but,” Sam shrugs his shoulders and gives Dean his best, ‘please don’t hurt me, I’m a giant five year old’ face and keeps going, “I was just going to say that you of all people shouldn’t wanna joke about Cas because he’s the…” Sam pauses and takes a deep breath, quickly spitting out his next words as one crowded mess, “loveofyourlife.”

Dean shoots up from his comfy position on the bed. _Oh shit,_ that really was what Sam was going to say. The voice inside his head is laughing hysterically now, and for the first time Dean realizes it sounds a lot like his dad. 

Dean, not quite sure what kind of face he’s displaying, stands up and sends a little ‘what in the fuck?’ gesture towards Sam by throwing his arms out in front of him. His brother honestly looks scared, and reaches for the pillow at the top of his bed to hide his face.

Realizing he should probably tone down whatever bitch face he’s wearing, Dean brings both hands up to rub his eyes and scrub his expression clean. Dean’s _not_ gay, and he has nothing to worry about; still laughing, the voice—his father—inside his head sarcastically agrees, _sure you don’t, you’re completely straight Dean, you have NOTHING to worry about._

Trying to stop the new—annoying, stupid, good for nothing—addition to his thoughts, Dean turns around and studies the wall. Once he’s sure the voice is done, Dean turns back around and looks at Sam, who still is covering his face with the pillow. Although now Dean can see the top of Sam’s head and his eyes poking out over the pillow.

“Please no hitting,” Sam muffles out through the pillow, “that would be the jerkiest bitch move ever,” he goes on, now lowering the pillow a little more so his mouth is free, “I’m still sick remember?” Sam asks, and gives a little cough as if to show Dean. 

Dean just sighs and rolls his eyes, “of course I’m not going to hit you Sam that just threw me off a little bit.” 

Sam, dropping the pillow and relaxing back into the bed frame again, sighs in relief before responding, “Good. I didn’t know what you would say or _do_.”

Dean wants to yell, but he’s not going to. He wants to scream at Sam, ‘why the hell would you say that?’ ‘Do you honestly think I’m gay?’ ‘Why does everyone have a iss—‘ 

Dean cuts his thoughts short remembering back to the picture Charlie showed him earlier. What the hell? Dean thinks. But he hears his dad’s voice thrumming out a simple ‘ _bingo’_.

Dean, way past confusion, just lets himself tumble back on top of the mattress. With a million questions surfacing, Dean has one very simple one at the tip of his tongue. Gathering up his courage, pushing past every instinct that’s telling him ‘chick flick moment, get out while you can,’ Dean investigates, “do you really think I’m gay Sammy?”

“No,” Sam answers almost instantly, but continues, “I mean I don’t really think you’re _gay_ per say, but I mean there _is_ your obsession with doctor Sexy—“

Dean cuts him off before Sam can take that one any further, “dude I just like the show.”

“Deeaan,” Sam declares in his ‘I’m not stupid’ voice, that makes Dean wanna take back the no-hitting policy he just agreed to, “you should have seen the look on your face when you first saw him in person, it was a mix between ‘oh my god, I just came in my pants’ and ‘holy fuck, I’m gonna get down on my knees right here even though Sam’s next me getting totally grossed out’”

“Duuude—“

Dean tries to cut Sam off right there, because he doesn’t wanna hear this at all, let alone from his little brother. 

But Sam cuts off Dean’s attempt by continuing even louder, “don’t dude me, what about the situation with Aaron?”

“That was all him, I turned him down anyways!” Dean reminds Sam. Because honestly, this is way too many feelings being discussed, and Dean would have walked out the door minutes ago if he wasn’t so concerned with Sammy thinking he’s gay. _Don’t lie Dean, you know what you really are…_ His dad bellows into his head.

“Saying you couldn’t go out with him because you’re on the job, and then tripping on the stool on your way out isn’t the best way of saying you’re straight Dean.” Sam declares, and Dean’s about to open his mouth and ask how he knows all this anyways, but Sam stops him by explaining, “Aaron told me, I was curious and I didn’t wanna ask you.”

“So now we snoop on each other, huh?” Dean harshly inquires. 

“That’s not snooping, I just was concerned for you Dean,” Sam says while giving Dean his best puppy eyes, “I just, I don’t know, I feel bad.”

“Bad?” Dean asks, “Why? The only thing you should feel sorry about is making me have this conversation at all.”

Sam rolls his eyes, _freakin’ drama addict_ Dean thinks as Sam starts to further explain, “well, for example, if you were working the golem case without me, would you have gone out with Aaron?”

There’s the million dollar question, and of course his smart little brother just has to ask it. “No,” Dean gruffly spits out as he stands up and charges towards the door.

The last thing Dean needs right now is to worry about that freaking day again. Yeah, _sure,_ Dean may have contemplated saying yes to Aaron, but that doesn’t make him gay. He was just nervous, and out of place for a second. Dean Winchester is, and always will be, a ladies man. 

His dad’s rough laughter is in his head again, telling Dean, _yeah, ladies’ man alright. If you mean ‘Dean’s a man who acts like a lady.’_

Before Dean can make it through the door, he feels Sam’s tight grip around his shoulder and is forced to turn around and look at his brother. 

“Look we don’t ever have to have this conversation again,” Sam, rushing his words, keeps going “and I’ll never bring it up again if that’s what you want…”

Dean’s wants to yell ‘hell yeah!’ but he refrains and lets Sam finish, “I just want you to know that I would never care, or feel differently about you if you were bi-sexual or whatever.”

_Bi-sexual? Hmmm._ Well that’s a word Dean hasn’t thought of. Dean’s thinking how maybe bi-sexual doesn’t sound so bad, _right?_ Just means more sex for Dean, _right?_ When the familiar voice cuts his thoughts short, _no Dean, bi-sexual is just a word used to make yourself feel better about being a fag._

“Gotcha Sam,” Dean says as he gives his brother a firm slap on the shoulder, “now I need to go check on Crowley.” Dean explains as he turns and enters the hallway.

Before getting to far, Dean yells over his shoulder, “there’s left over’s in the fridge.”

_Yeah definitely not having this conversation._

\--

Charlie’s car is way smaller than the Impala, but Cas enjoys riding in it still. He also likes the music Charlie’s playing; unlike Dean’s, Cas can actually understand the most of the lyrics.

They ride for about twenty minutes, windows down the whole way, because Cas really likes how the fast wind rushing in keeps him cool. Charlie asks Cas what kind of clothes he likes, but he can only shrug and reply, “Well I like how Dean’s jeans are kinda loose at the bottom, and I liked my button up, but I think I want something more…soft.”

Charlie makes a ‘hmmmm’ noise, “alright so bootcut jeans, and cotton. You’re an easy buy Mr. Castiel Winchester.”

Cas blushes at the use of Dean’s name. He knows Charlie is only saying it because Dean thinks of him as a brother, but yet something still tickles that new feeling that’s been pitting in Cas’s stomach since Dean opened the door and welcomed him in with open arms. Charlie smiles at Cas, and he smiles back. They let silence take the air for the rest of the car ride, and before too long Charlie’s car is slowing down and pulling into a tightly squeezed parking spot. 

The mall is rather loud and crowded. Cas can’t really picture wanting to come here that often. Although when Charlie looks over and sees Cas’s lost expression she grabs him by the hand and shouts, “Onward we must travel!”

Weaving their way through about fifty people they finally make it to the first store. Normally, as an angel, Cas would simply look around and want to study every human here; but now he just feels overwhelmed, sweaty, and wants nothing more than to be back in the comfort of the bunker, with Dean and Sam whose personalities and mannerisms he already has memorized. 

They find Cas three pairs of jeans at the first store. He doesn’t think he needs that many, but Charlie insist, saying something about how ‘Dean n’ Sam barely do the friggin’ laundry.’

The next store Charlie drags him to is huge. She explains how bigger stores are called department stores, which Cas already knew that but he nods in understanding anyways. They look around for a while, with Cas not really seeing anything too interesting—that is—until a pair of shoes catches his eye. 

They remind him of Dean’s boots a little, although they are made out of what looks to be deerskin unlike Dean’s faux leather. They are light brown, and look like they would reach the middle of his calves.

Charlie notices him staring and asks, “Hey, do you wanna try a pair of those on?”

Cas nods and smiles, already picturing himself wearing them. He thinks briefly about Dean’s reaction to seeing him wear them, they don’t really look like something Dean would ever wear, but Cas secretly hopes Dean likes them anyway. 

Charlie waves over one of the workers and asks, “Do you have…” stopping to look down at Cas’s feet which are masked by Sam’s enormous boots, “let’s try nine and half through elevens.”

As the lady walks away Charlie leads Cas to the closest chair to sit and wait.

“Do you know what size you wear?” She asks, “I can’t tell while you got those big ass boots on.”

“Jimmy Novak, my vessel, wore a size ten and a half,” Cas answers her and he assumes that’s also what size he’ll wear .

“Hmmm. Okay we’ll try those first.”

When the lady comes back with all the boxes, they get to work trying them on. After he’s been through all the pairs Cas decides the tens fit him best. Charlie explains that the reason Jimmy wore ten in a half’s is probably because his were dress shoes. Apparently these are ‘moccasins’ and run bigger. 

Cas leaves the size ten’s on, only after Charlie begging him to and explaining that it’s okay to do that. Shoving Sam’s boots into his new box, Cas waits as Charlie pays, and they receive another bag to carry, along with the jean bag from the first store.

Walking to the next store, which Charlie calls ‘the sceney weenie shop,’ she says, “Okay look, I know you said you like boot cuts but you really should wear skinny jeans with those,” Charlie explains as she glances down at Cas’s new boots. 

Cas nods and Charlie continues, “They’ll have some good ones here.”

The scene place, or whatever Charlie called it, actually turns out to be named Zummies, and Cas realizes, as soon as he enters, that he absolutely _hates_ Zummies. I mean who names a store Zummies, Cas can't come up with any root definitions that make sense, and he really, really it.The music is overly loud, it smells like fifty types of nasty cologne, everything is packed tightly together, and Cas has no clue where to start his search. 

Luckily Charlie, being the skilled shopper that she is, takes Cas by the hand again and drags him to the back of the store. The entire back wall is covered in different colored jeans, and differing from the store earlier, Zummies has every color Cas could possibly think of, even pink. 

After taking in all of the jeans, Cas spots a couch in the corner. He strides over quickly and let’s himself sink into the uncomfortable cushions. 

“Hey!” Charlie yells, suddenly standing in front of Cas, “no tapping out on me now, we still have to get you underwear.” 

Sighing, Cas gets up and rubs his tired eyes. He is exhausted beyond belief, but at least he won’t have to come back here for a long time. 

“Fine,” Cas spits, sending a quick glare at the overly cheery red head standing in front of him. 

“Alright,” Charlie replies as she shoves the jeans she picked out for him into his hands, “you try checking out this time.”

Cas, remembering the last time he tried to ‘check out’ somewhere and the whole pie incident, and cringes a little. But he knows Charlie isn’t asking and takes the plastic card she’s now handing over. 

The guy at the counter is young, probably about five to ten years younger than Cas’s vesse—than Cas is. The man has wavy hair that covers his forehead, and grey eyes that are hidden behind large framed glasses. Laying the jeans down, Cas sees that Charlie picked him out three pairs again, one black pair, one dark blue pair, and a grey pair. 

The guy starts taking something off the jeans and Cas is about to tell him to cut it out, but he realizes it’s just the alarm. The guy—Matt—his name tag says, smiles warmly at Castiel and starts to ring his items up. 

Once Matt gets all the jeans stuffed into the black and white colored bag, he catches Castiel’s gaze and asks, “So, um, is that your girlfriend?”

Matt’s eyes linger over to Charlie, who’s standing at the front of the store waiting for Cas. Cas isn’t really quite sure what Matt means, weather he’s inquiring if Charlie is a girl, who is also his friend. Or if he means more than that. Leaving the bag in its place on the counter, Cas quickly darts through the store, bobbing around all the random racks of clothes, and walks over to Charlie. 

Charlie, looking beyond confused, is about to ask something when Cas cuts her off, “he wants to know if you’re my girlfriend, and yes you are a girl that is my friend but that’s not what he means is it?”

Charlie smirks and looks over Cas’s shoulder, where he knows Matt is standing, waiting for Cas to return for his things and a answer. Looking back at Cas now, she replies “Yeah, he definitely wants to know if were dating just tell him no, and get his number,” Charlie finishes as she turns Cas around and shoves him back in Matt’s direction. 

Before Matt has time to say anything Cas is answering his earlier question, “No, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s homosexual.” Cas points out.

Matt laughs, “You’re really straight forward huh?” 

Now smiling back, for some reason Cas can’t identify, he shrugs “I suppose.”

“I like it,” Matt adds, leaving a brief, awkward pause that Cas doesn’t know how to fill, before he’s talking again, “Would you, um, wanna go out sometime?”

Cas doesn’t know if he wants to go out with this man or not, but he does what Charlie instructed and asks for the guys number.

“Great,” Matt says as he pulls a blank sheet of receipt paper out and writes his number down. 

Cas smiles and takes the thin paper, folding it up carefully and placing it in his pocket.

“Okay, so I’ll be hearing from you then,” Matt states, allowing Cas the chance to leave.

Cas nods, and strides back over to a completely a giddy Charlie who’s smiling ear to ear and looks as if her eyes might actually pop out of her head, “Sooooooo?” Charlie asks, and Cas stays quiet.

“Eugh-um,” Charlie clears her throat, “a totally hot hipster just hit on you, and I need the deets!”

As they walk to the next store Cas relies everything that just happened back to Charlie, who in return assures him that it was a good idea. She also explains how Cas isn’t obligated to contact the guy if he doesn’t want to, and that’s a relief, because Cas isn’t quite sure he wants to tell Dean he’s going out ‘on a date’ with a man.

The next store makes Cas uncomfortable. It’s overly white, and all the shiny whiteness reminds him of Naomi’s office. There is one major difference between Naomi’s office and this store: the fact there is giant pictures of almost completely nude men and women covering the walls. 

Cas studies one of the pictures of the men. Comparing this model’s body to Dean’s, like he did earlier with his own body. Cas realizes that if this picture is the ideal body for men then Dean is also lacking a bit. But it doesn’t seem like Dean is the one lacking, at least not to Cas. As he studies the image before him, Cas traces the deep crevasses of the man’s stomach muscles, and remembers how Dean’s looks soft but also firm not cut out and rigid. _Like a mattress, _Cas thinks, _perfect to put your head on.___

Just as he begins to think about how Dean also has way better eyes, Cas is pulled out of his thoughts when he realizes Charlie is laughing beside him. 

“Wanna know what I think you’re thinking about?” Charlie asks, and Cas nods because there is no way she could possibly know he was thinking about Dean.

“I think you’re thinking about how much nicer Dean looks than this guy,” she’s states flatly, as if she didn’t just completely read Cas’s mind. Cas, not being able to hide his awe, lets his mouth fall open and Charlie laughs at him again. _This is really bad._ Charlie is Dean’s friend, what if she tells Dean? He won’t want to be around Cas anymore; and if Cas doesn’t have Dean he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle being human. 

“Hey, it’s okay” Charlie reassures him, “I won’t tell.”

Cas lets out a relieved sigh. Thank—Metatron— he supposes since the cowardly angel is the only one reigning in heaven. Quickly wanting those thoughts out of his head Cas asks Charlie, “How’d you know? You’re not psychic, are you?”

“No, I just know that look. At first I thought you were just bluntly checking that dude out,” Charlie begins as she motions for Cas to follow her. “But I saw the want, the real want there…”

She trails off as she stops to looks at boxer briefs, she holds up a pair, and Cas nods, also sending Charlie pleading eyes to finish her sentence. 

“Well,” she goes on as she picks up a few different colors of the pair she just showed Cas, “I already had a feeling you had a thing for Dean, between Chuck’s books, and how…”

Charlie trails off again and holds up a pack of black and white socks that look nothing like the kind he wore before, but Cas nods anyways just wanting Charlie to continue talking. 

“I probably shouldn’t be talking about this with you,” Charlie starts again as they find their way into an aisle that looks to be all undershirts, and Cas’s stomach tightens hoping Charlie doesn’t do the same thing with Dean and spill his secrets. “But I want Dean to be happy, and I feel like you want Dean to be happy to.”

Cas nods yet again, both to her declaration and the pack of multi-colored shirts she’s holding up, and Charlie continues, “I think he wants you, you know all of you.”

They walk down the aisle and towards the check out, “Because he just gets totally, like, depressed whenever you run off; and I don’t even think it’s the fact that you would run off without telling him where you’re going, which is what he makes it seem like. I think he just generally wants you around him and is upset when you’re not.”

Tingling all over and fluttering from the inside out, Cas can’t stop his smile; and as they get in line Cas asks “You really think so?”

“Yeah, and he’s totally gay so you don’t have to worry about that,” Charlie answers, surprising Cas.

He has never got the impression of ‘gay’ from Dean. Dean has had sex with lots of women, and always points out when something homosexual makes him uncomfortable.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Charlie begins her words of wisdom, “and I just have two words, bi-sexual and overcompensation.”

The bi-sexual part Cas gets and he supposes, Dean could be bi-sexual. The overcompensation part is confusing him however; but he can’t ask what she means because the cashier is ready for them, and Charlie is smiling brightly at the blonde. Placing their items on the counter, Charlie winks at the girl.

“Don’t worry doll, this is” she points between Cas and her, “not that kind of relationship.”

The girl blushes instantly and Cas admires Charlie’s social skills yet again. 

The cashier rings up their things, and Cas notices how the blonde girl takes the time to write her number on the back of the receipt. As they leave the store, Charlie stuffs the number in her pocket and declares, “And that, my friend, is how it’s done...but you already know that” she adds.

Charlie calling Cas ‘friend’ warms him in funny ways. Unlike the feeling he gets when he thinks about Dean; which is a total body high, tingling and warming every inch of him, making his stomach flutter, and causing his heart to pump fiercely. This feeling is different, a nice, happy, _liked_ feeling.

“That was over-compensation at its finest, by the way.” Charlie adds, as they make their way to what should be the last store, considering all the things they’ve purchased already. 

Cas scrunches his brow and before he can ask, Charlie’s explaining, “you see how I made an extra effort to point out that I’m gay since it could have looked like we were dating from that chicks point of view,” she laughs, “considering I was picking out your underwear.”

Cas follows Charlie as they enter a shop named Hollywood store, and continues to listen as she explains, “That’s basically what Dean does all the time, except with not being gay, obviously.”

Cas nods, he supposes Dean may have done that a time or two, but he still doesn’t believe that Dean’s gay. The store is packed with all sorts of things, license plates, magnets, and coffee mugs. Although racks of tee shirts are covering the walls and the majority of the floor space. 

Charlie leads him to the back of the store, “and there was this one time Dean walked me through flirting with a man, it was great.” 

She laughs, and Cas pictures it, Dean telling her ‘just look deeply in his eyes,’ ‘make jokes with him,’ and ‘tell him he has the sexiest wing—‘

Cas yet again cuts his thoughts short, not wanting to go there. 

They don’t talk about Dean anymore, and Cas is grateful because his heart still hasn’t gone back to its regular pace. Charlie helps him pick out shirts, and he lets her be the judge of what’s ‘cool’ considering he hasn’t really seen any of these movies.

He ends up getting a Star Wars shirt, that simply has the words star wars written out in a weird font, a shirt with some guys face on it, and one from a show called Star Trek. He likes them well enough, and promises Charlie by the next time they come he will have seen enough movies to pick out his own shirts.

As they walk out, Charlie stops and hands over the black Star Trek shirt and the grey skinny jeans.

“Go to the bathroom,” she points to the men’s sign hanging about thirty yards away, “and change into these, I wanna see Dean’s face when you walk in with your hot self.”


	5. Slow on the Uptake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh . . ."

The storage room leading into the dungeon is always cold and Dean gets slight goose bumps as he embraces the new temperature. Pulling the secret lever, Dean steps back and waits for the hidden room to reveal itself. Unlike the first two times he’s been down here since Crowley inhabited it, this time he hears muffled cries. Flipping on the light switch, Dean glides past, ignoring the chains hanging from the ceiling and goes straight to the source of the whining.

Dean yanks back the covers, revealing a completely balled up, and still bloody Crowley. Seeing the former demon like this makes Dean happy, it’s what Crowley deserves. The worst punishment—Dean knows from experience—is having to live with all the bad things you’ve done. 

Smirking Dean bends down and grabs up Crowley making the blubber of a man stand up straight. Crowley tries to fall back on the bed, but Dean stops him and gives him a swift slap in the face. Crowley finally looks up at Dean, after the rude gesture.

“Hey,” Dean says with a smile, “time for you to grow back your balls and at least come upstairs to eat something.”

Patting Crowley on the shoulder, Dean lets his grip loose, and to his surprise Crowley doesn’t fall back down this time.

“You good?” Dean asks, not that he really cares, he just doesn’t wanna have to stop every ten feet and pick Crowley up off the floor. 

Crowley nods, and wipes his snotty nose off with the sleeve of his dirty, black suit jacket. It reminds Dean of Cas earlier and Dean regrets sending Charlie to the store without instructions to pick up extra clothes for Crowley. 

“I guess we’ll have to get you some of Sammy’s old clothes,” Dean points out as he turns around and starts for the entrance.

“Samantha?” Crowley all of the sudden blurts out, and hearing Crowley’s voice snuffling and shaky is something Dean will never be able to get used to, “I don’t want to impose, I don’t think he would like that very much, I’ve never been nice to him like that.” “Oh, he’ll get over it,” Dean says as he shuts the dungeon up and heads to the stairs with Crowley behind him. 

They reach the kitchen and Dean starts to warm up a burger for Crowley. The former demon, instead of sitting at the table, walks around and searches through a couple of cabinets.

Suddenly letting out an excited gasp, “Looks like you have just the right ingredients for bananas muffins,” Crowley looks down at the burger Dean’s pulling out of the microwave, “Um, please don’t take offence but I don’t really enjoy red meat, or much of any meat.” 

Laughing, because honestly what kind of demon is a vegetarian? Dean sets the now toasty burger down and says, “Um, okay I’ll get you some clothes, you can shower, and then make muffins or whatever you want.”

Sam is sleeping again when Dean goes to get the clothes, and he creeps as quietly as possible to avoid any further conversation with his brother. 

As he hands over the old, oversized clothes to Crowley the demon smiles, and thanks him; And Dean is _never_ going to get used to this.

Dean, while Crowley showers, uses his time to check up on all the guest bedrooms. Making sure they all are stocked with towels, blankets, and pillows.

Wandering to his bedroom, Dean picks up his dad’s journal, and has an idea. Pulling a piece of paper from the typewriter Dean picks up a pen a writes 

Cas—

I thought you could use this for a little bit

But I expect you to be ready for a pop quiz, if you want me

to take you on the next hunt. 

Finishing off the note and rereading it, Dean decides it sounds good; and takes both items and lays them on top of the bed in the room he plans to give Cas, the room right next to his.

Dean relaxes into his chair, and finally places his pistol back in its resting placing. Almost as soon as Dean relaxes back he hears Crowley make his way into the kitchen and starts clacking stuff around. Feeling a little possessive over his cooking area Dean sighs, and makes his way into the kitchen to watch over Crowley. 

Crowley has just put the muffins in the oven when Dean hears a loud, familiar knock at the door. 

“Stay put,” Dean tells Crowley, “and try not to say anything stupid, Cas is here and he’s not an angel anymore,” Dean takes the extra time to walk over to Crowley and look him in the eyes, “if you say anything fucking stupid that hurts him, I will end you and not bat an eye about it…you understand me?”

Dean’s not joking; and though he looks like he’s about to piss his pants, Crowley nods. Dean gives him a smirk before turning and rushing up the stairs. 

When he opens the door Dean only sees Charlie, and though the sight of his smiling best friend is good and all, he instantly starts to freak out.

“Where the hell is Cas?” Dean blurts out, rushing through the door and looking around outside for any sight of Cas.

Charlie instantly pushes Dean back inside as she says, “Whoa Dean, this is supposed to be a surprise!”

_Surprise?_ Dean laughs, okay…

_Nice way to prove you’re straight Dean, _John’s stern voice, all the sudden, is in his head again.__

“CAASSSSS!” Charlie screams, “We’re ready!”

Charlie strides and takes the place next to Dean, whispering “You might want to, um, brace yourself…he’s gorgeous.”

Dean, suddenly feeling subconscious, wishes he would of wore looser pants, _just in case._

Cas comes into view slowly, and Dean now is _really_ regretting his decision, this morning, to wear these tight ass jeans. He can already feel his dick getting hard.

Just like he imagined, Cas is wearing skinny jeans. Grey, tight, sexy skinny jeans, that show off every inch of lean muscle in Cas’s legs. The next thing Dean notices is Cas’s new boot-moccasins that lace up half his calves causing his jeans to bunch around the top.

Dean laughs out loud as he brings his eyes up and sees Cas’s shirt. _Damn Charlie_ got Cas a freaking Star Trek shirt with a picture of Spock and Captain Kirk on it. Cas is now through the doorway, and staring down at his new shoes. Sporting a look of embarrassment. Dean, though he hates the idea of Cas being embarrassed in front of him, can’t help but think it’s one of cutest looks he’s ever seen. Dean supposes if he had only wore one outfit for years and then suddenly had to pick from millions he would be a little subconscious too. 

“You look…great,” Dean admits wanting to clear Cas’s face of any uncertainty.

Cas instantly brings his blue gaze up to meet Dean’s, and sends Dean a shy smile.

Dean, knowing he’s half way hard, tries to shift without making it obvious. But when he hears Charlie chuckle besides him, he knows he’s failed miserably. Not really caring to take his eyes off Cas, Dean ignores the laughing redhead next to him and steps forward to wrap Cas up in his arms.

He knows this feeling, Dean’s had it before, just once. It happened when Cas saved him from Zachariah. After the dick-ass angel sent him to 2014. 

_He’s staring into Cas’s eyes, and for the first time—though he’s actually seen many ghost in his life—Dean feels as if he seen a ghost. Seeing_ his _Cas after spending all that time in 2014, makes his heart stop. He can never express how much he hated 2014, next to Hell it was the worst experience he’s ever had. Seriously, seeing Cas hapless, powerless and stuck with that cold, selfish, dick almost broke Dean. The sad part is, Dean knows he would be exactly like that if circumstances where the same. The worst was seeing Sam’s face, twisted in that smug grin that the real Sammy has never worn a day in his life._

_But now, as Dean stands on this random road under the pale street lighting and gazes into Cas’s eyes, he feels okay again. In this moment, looking at Cas and remembering his time there, Dean vows to always keep those memories. Vows to think about them every morning. Vows to never let it happen. Still connected with the angel’s blue stare, Dean is forced to smile. He can’t help it, he knows under the circumstances most people wouldn’t be able to truly smile; but he finds his cheeks pulling uncontrollably._

_“Don’t ever change,” Dean says, because if he tells Cas, maybe Cas will understand. Maybe Cas will realize that Dean loves Cas just the way he is, awkward and stern._ _Maybe Cas will somehow just magically understand that Dean loves his gravelly voice just the way it is, and that Dean never wants to hear it tainted by drugs ever again. Maybe he will just know that Dean needs him just as much and he needs Sam. Maybe Cas will somehow know everything Dean just saw, and understand that Dean is sorry. Sorry beyond belief, for things he has yet to do, things he’s never going to let happen. Sorry for letting Cas turn into that. Sorry for never making Cas stop, even though he saw his future self’s leather jacket in Cas’s cabin. Even though Dean knows he wasn’t really in another woman’s cabin that night._

_Dean knows because Chuck, he never said anything to his future self or future Cas because they never brought it up; but Dean knows. After he got slapped by that girl, Dean was walking with Chuck, and Chuck just—plain as day—stated, “You know, life would be a lot easier if you would just own up to fucking Cas.”_

Pulling back from the hug, Dean smiles at Cas who whispers, “I’m a whole lot better at hugs now, huh?”

Dean just lets himself smile harder and nods at Cas’s remark. Maybe this isn’t leading down that road, Dean thinks. Just this morning Dean was sure that this was _it._ That their luck was finally out, and the end of them had finally arrived. But seeing Cas smiling, beaming actually, in front of him makes Dean change his mind. Maybe he can still save everyone after all. 

“I like your shirt,” Dean shakily gets out, trying his best not to think about his daydream earlier.

“I don’t know who it is,” Cas admits, as he looks down at the shirt. Making it even harder for Dean to ignore what his body wants; that is, until his father’s voice comes rushing into his head again, _yeah kiss him, Dean, do it._

Pulling back a little, but trying to ignore his dad’s sarcasm, Dean replies, “I know.” 

Then Dean pauses, contemplating his next words, but he ends up saying it anyways as he points to Cas’s shirt, “That’s captain Kirk, he’s like the leader of their group, and that,” he pokes Cas a little extra hard because he can’t help it, Cas just reminds him of Spock, “that is Spock, he is like an alien from a different race, and they are friends who save the world together.”

Dean hears Charlie’s cough-giggle from behind him and he adds, “And some people,” he looks over at Charlie for a second, “think they are in love.” He adds as he rolls his eyes.

Cas’s eyes widen and dart to stare at Charlie who’s still giggling next to Dean. 

“What?” Charlie asks, all innocent, like she didn’t buy Cas the shirt with intent. 

Cas finally breaks his stare and starts to laugh. 

Looking back up at Dean, Cas tries to joke, “I think she’s just happy to have a wingman who won’t try and steal all her girls.”

Charlie and Cas crack up, but Dean can’t laugh, he can’t even smile. He is truly stuck. 

“What do you mean Cas? Don’t let Charlie intimidate you, if you want to, you know…” Dean pauses, “um, get with someone.”

\--

Cas feels his eyes widening as Dean speaks. _Oh no,_ it’s now or never he supposes. Pushing his hand into his pocket he feels the folded receipt. 

With one quick breath, Cas pulls out the paper, “I’m not intimidated!”

“Then what did you mean?” Dean asks, face blank, besides his questioning brow.

Charlie giggles again, and Cas looks over to her for help. 

“I think,” Charlie starts, as she swings her thin arm around Dean’s broad shoulders, “you’re a little slow today Dean…although you always kind of are—”

“I am not slow!” Dean shouts, but Cas can tell by his tone that Dean’s not actually mad. 

But Cas has a feeling Dean’s cute grin and happy eyes will falter as soon as Charlie spills the beans. 

Charlie snatches the paper from Cas, and unfolds it, “How about you solve a riddle then? If you’re so smart.” Charlie asks Dean. 

Dean steps around Cas, letting his heat barely warm Cas’s flesh, as he moves to shut the door. 

“So…” Charlie begins, still looking at the paper like she’s reading something. 

“What’s crooked, not a cock-block, and still manages to get more numbers than you?” She smugly asks Dean.

As Dean thinks, Cas almost loses it. This was a bad idea. Dean’s going to be wired around him now.

“Um…I’m guessing Cas?” Dean finally answers, “But I still don’t get it.”

She laughs, and hands the receipt over to Dean. 

His eyes widen as he reads, what Cas knows is written, in green ink ‘Matt 410-3045’

“Oh…” 


	6. It's Creepy, Isn't it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For the first time since the accident Charlie feels she’s in the right place. Even if her place is standing in the doorway, gaping at a former angel-on-demon fist fight."

“Oh…” is all Dean can manage.

Because Charlie just handed him a dudes number. A _dudes_ number. Which means…

Which means Cas is…

_Gay?_

No, Cas can’t be gay? He’s never even been with a women so how would he kno— _oh._

Well Dean feels stupid for not calling that one out sooner. 

Taking in Cas’s scared eyes and speedy breathing, Dean quickly wipes off any surprise he’s wearing and smiles at Cas. 

Still looking a bit frightened, Cas warily smiles back, and Dean hates that Cas would ever think something like this would hurt their friendship. Apparently he needs to do a better job of showing Cas he’s okay with men being together, especially now. 

_Of course you do, Dean._ His father’s stern voice echoes through Dean’s head again, _you’ll make him feel right at home, won’t you—_

For the first time, Dean is able to cut his father’s banter short, and knowing he has the power to do so instantly brightens Dean, inside and out. 

Still giving Cas his biggest smile, Dean hands the number back to him, and throws Cas a wink and a thumbs up.

“Nice,” Dean smirks, “I knew you’d have no problems meeting people. However I wasn’t sure if you were capable of flirting or no—”

Charlie cuts Dean off, “He did a rather good job, however he did leave poor Matthew standing while he ran and asked for advice.”

Dean laughs at the mental picture, Cas getting all wide eyed and running through the store to locate Charlie, frantically asking for advice. 

Matching Dean’s laugh, Charlie continues, “but this guy wasn’t really Cas’s type anyway, he was also way too young if you ask me.” Charlie turns and starts walking down the stairs, Dean follows with Cas right behind him, “He couldn’t have been no more the twenty-five, and was wearing a beanie for crying out loud!”

Charlie looks over her shoulder and sends both of them a smirk before continuing, “I’ve come to discover ‘hipster’ is not Cas’s type, he prefers simpler, geeky but still chiseled men.”

Dean can’t help it, he feels his cheeks redden. It’s a good thing Cas is behind him.

\--

Castiel is going to _kill_ Charlie. Seriously? Seriously! Cas is never telling Charlie anything again. 

Older, chiseled men, huh? Wonder who that could be? 

Face hot as can be, Cas is just glad when a sudden, loud clanking distracts everyone.

“Who’s that?” Charlie questions as she runs ahead of them and towards the kitchen. 

Dean suddenly turns around, ignoring Charlie completely, he meets Cas’s eyes. 

“Listen Cas, Crowley is in there making some muffins or some shit—”

Not giving Dean time to finish, Cas pushes past Dean and towards the noise. Ignoring Charlie standing awkwardly in the doorway, Cas strides past and stands right behind the balding demon, who’s getting something out of the oven.

Crowley stands and turns, face frozen in horror as he is surprised by Cas’s firm stance behind him. The clumsy fool even manages to drop all the muffins. 

Cas doesn’t take his eyes off Crowley, even when he hears Dean sigh, all the sudden close behind him. Castiel wants nothing more than to give this demonic piece of shit a taste of his own medicine. Slicing Crowley open and stuffing him with his damn pastry’s sounds fair, however without his grace Dean would never allow Cas to take it that far.

So Cas decides on using the only thing he knows how to without his grace: his fists.

Cas lands one blow, hitting Crowley square in the face. Although pain quickly swells in his hand, and instead of swinging again, Cas decides on kneeing the former-demon in his gut.

Before he can act again Dean is grabbing Cas up tightly and pulling him away from Crowley. 

Cas yells, “That was for shooting me, you dick!”

To both Dean and Cas’s surprise, Crowley lurches into action and swings at Cas. The weird angle causes Crowley to miss and barely scrape Cas’s cheek.

Then Cas notices for the first time that Crowley is crying, as he yells back, “That was for cutting me out of the purgatory deal, stupid!”

The next seconds pass in a blur, before he can say stop Dean is already letting Cas go and charging at Crowley. Smashing Crowley into the oven, Dean nearly screams, “don’t ever touch him again, do you understand me?”

Still crying, Crowley nods and sobs loudly.

“Dean please,” Cas cuts in, and places a firm hold on Dean’s shoulder, “I hit him first…I shouldn’t have, it’s not that big of deal.”

Dean glares into Crowley’s eyes for a few more seconds but then he relaxes and looks back at Cas. 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Dean agrees. 

\--

Jesus, sweet-loving, mother of Ealdor what has Charlie’s life become?

She’s guessing it’s become something of a TV show. First of all she’s standing in a kitchen of a completely bad-ass bat-cave. Second of all, not only did she go shopping with a former angel today, she also is now meeting who she assumes to be Crowley. By the way Chuck described him, this man seems to fit perfectly. Besides the fact he’s now a sobbing mess of course. 

She blames Dean. But she also can’t help but thank him at the same time. Her life consisted of nothing before she met the brothers. Sure, she was safer probably but Charlie had nobody, or nothing she could really call a family or home. 

For the first time since the accident she feels she’s in the right place. Even if her place is standing in the doorway, gaping at a former angel-on-demon fist fight. 

\--

By the time he turns around Cas is swaying uneasily.

“Hey, Cas, buddy, you alright?” Dean quickly asks, as he makes his way behind Cas to steady him. 

“I don’t—”

Suddenly Dean has two arm-fulls of Cas’s dead weight. 

Dean looks up at Charlie, whose eyes just widen. Then finally she seems to snap out of her daze and run to provide some effort. 

“Sorry,” Charlie explains as she moves the hair off Cas’s forehead. “He was falling asleep at the mall, I probably should have mentioned that sooner. 

“It’s okay,” Dean assures her with a smirk. Adjusting Cas and picking up his legs, Dean adds, “he probably didn’t even realize how exhausted he was. I’ve only seen him sleep twice, and both times were forced.” 

With Charlie following behind him, Dean heads towards the room he got ready for Cas. 

\--

When Cas opens his eyes, he finds he’s surrounded by darkness and laying on something smooth and soft. Oh…and really warm, and he really just never wants to move again. Cas has about one second to register a sudden movement by his bedside before the light is being turned on and he’s shooting up from underneath the covers. Once his eyes adjust he looks up to find a smirking Dean standing over the bed. 

“Creepy isn’t it?” Dean asks.

Cas groans, falls back into the mattress, and smacks a hand over his eyes. _No, Dean. It’s actually not creepy at all because you’re freaking beautiful._ Although he doesn’t say that because his throat is dry and he just wants the lights to go back off.

Suddenly Dean is handing him a glass of water, saying, “Yeah you sleep with your mouth open so…your throat probably feels scratchy.”

Cas gulps down the water before saying, “It’s not that creepy.”

The water’s refreshed him. It’s really amazing, Cas never thought something so simple could taste so wonderful. He briefly wonders about alcohol before Dean is talking again, “you’ve been out like a light for nearly twenty four hours, are you sure you feel okay?”

Cas nods, because now that he has this amazing water, he’s great. Dean seems to sense his change and smiles again. Before Cas can comment, Sam comes through the door. “Cas!” Sam’s warm smile comforts him. 

Upon reaching Dean yesterday Cas wasn’t even sure if he was able to save Sam and even though Dean told Cas that Sam was okay- seeing Sam in real life, breathing and smiling in front of him, takes a huge weight off Cas’s shoulders.

This ‘weight thing’ is new, sure Cas felt responsibility when he was an angel, but now it’s different. 

“Hello, Sam.” Cas says as he moves to set down the water, “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Much better,” Sam replies, “how about you? Heard you went to the mall with Charlie…that must have been um, fun?”

Cas laughs, “yes it was fun, and I’m feeling great now . . . I never thought I’d say this but sleep and water are really fucking amazing.”

Dean’s eyes look like they’re going to dislodge from their sockets, Sam however, is laughing at nodding his head, saying, “I’ve never agreed with you more.”


	7. Masterbation Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie returns and joins team-over-the-hump, Kevin is Kat like, Dean avoids, and Cas gets off, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter forward has all been beta-ed by LucifersHitman to whom I'm overly grateful!

Two weeks later and Cas still hates getting up. However, Cas has found a whole new kind of appreciation for coffee. Yes, it’s fascinating that humans used to chew the berries, but definitely not the most fascinating thing. No, that would be the caffeine.

The first time Cas tried it, he thought he was dying. Literally.

He’d never felt so jittery, or thrum-ish in his whole existence and was sure something inside of him was preparing itself for an explosion. But once Dean explained (in an amused and oddly gleeful tone) that ‘you’re not dying, Cas. Don’t be such a drama queen. You're just high on the after effects of coffee,’ Cas realized he quite likes being high, he enjoys the feeling and wanted more of it, even if to accomplish such a thing he has to down whole mugs of bitter nastiness.

Next Charlie helped him discover that he likes vanilla coffee and things were grand.

After that, unfortunately, Charlie declared that she must leave and Cas had pouted until she had promised to return baring gifts and not be away for too long of a period.

With Charlie gone, though, Cas is discovering all kinds of problems.

And they all lead back to being embarrassed, which is a feeling he does not enjoy.

He’s even embarrassed that he’s embarrassed and that’s really just . . . yes.

Emotions seriously “blow” (a phrase acquired from Dean), Cas thinks—not for the first time—and he grunts as he rolls over, especially when you are in love with your . . . best friend? Brother? Roommate?

Oh, this is even more baffling to him. 

As if on cue, Cas’s ever persistent morning erection grazes the likes of his mattress. Sending a little thrill of pleasure up his spine. 

It’s getting to the point now where Cas gets hard every time he thinks about Dean (it makes conversations with him highly uncomfortable on Cas’s end).

It would be so easy, in theory, as Cas knows the basics of masturbation: he could slide his hands into his boxers and bring himself to completion, but . . .

So help him Father. He wouldn’t ever be able to face Dean again.

Cas is shamed enough of the few times he’s actually woken up sticky and shining with sweat over the last two weeks. Let alone if he allowed himself to fantasies about Dean consciously.

But these assbutt erections. Cas loathes them.

\--

Charlie’s only been gone two weeks, but oh, what a two weeks it’s been!

She may have hunted, just one little vampire, and she may have spent the rest of her time lying about and reading supernatural fanfiction instead but, hey technicalities.

She doesn’t think telling the boys about either of these tasks will go over very well, in fact she knows it won’t.

Luckily, she avoids the ‘what have you been up too’s’ when Cas answers her knocks, pulls her by the sleeve, and drags her to his bedroom.

Charlie doesn’t even have time to open her mouth before Cas is saying, “Thank father that you’re back, I need your help.”

And then he’s looking down at his crotch, and the undeniable erection that is pushing at his sweat pants with a look of utter disdain. 

\--

Charlie laughs. _Just fucking laughs_ and Castiel has a sudden urge to crawl under his bed and never come out again (darn it embarrassment), but instead he opts for scowling and covering himself with a pillow. Whining her name helplessly.

“Oh, Cas,” Charlie breathlessly drawls after her fit, “Surely you know how to take of that yourself, that’s like guy instinct or something, right?”

He nods, gritting out, “Of course I do, I just . . . Well, I . . . I don’t want to think about Dean while you know and . . .” Guilt clouds his face.

She merely sighs and nods, hands going to her hips.

“Are you going to help me?” Those darn blue puppy eyes again.

“Of course, Cas, what’re friends for?”

\--

Dean heard a knock, but there was no one at the door. Trippy.

So, logically, he’s sneaking around his own home with his forty-five and the demon knife, searching for an intruder. 

It’s only after he ducks around a corner and is met by a screeching mess of red hair, does he sheath his weapons. A fond smile uncurls upon Dean’s face as she pleads, “don’t stab me! Spock let me in.”

\--

Kevin’s never going to get used to this place. The king of hell is trapped in their dungeon, doors mysteriously knock on themselves, and people randomly scream causing him to almost shoot Dean and some redhead with a crossbow, or whatever weapon is closest to him next time this shit happens . . . and it will happen again because it always does around these idiots.

“Whoa . . . take it easy there, Katniss,” Dean mocks while snatching the crossbow away from him. “Might take out someone’s eyeball or something.”

The redhead turns to Dean, unreadable expression, until she smirks coyly and states, tone affectionate, “did you just reference the hunger games? Nerdy much?”

“Shut up.”

Kevin’s already starting to like this new character when Dean turns to him and introduces them as such, “Kevin freakin’ Solo meet _the_ one and only Charlie Bradbury.”

The Charlie Bradbury already has Kevin sold, because he’s heard the stories, but then she’s holding up the Vulcan greeting and Kevin can’t help shooting her the same back, delighted at another Klingon in the house.

There’s a certain profile one must have in order to fit in (and stay alive) around here, Kevin’s learned. It doesn’t matter how tough or strong you are, and it doesn’t matter how smart or fast you are. No. To fit in around here, you have to be 50% nerd - whether you’re a genius like Kevin is; a computer nerd like Charlie, a bookworm like Sam, socially unskilled like Cas, or an undercover nerd like Dean (oh, and then there’s Crowley who gives everyone shitty nicknames), nerdness is just necessary. That, and you have to be 25% self and/or family-sacrifice prone (besides Crowley, but that’s clearly why he’s still sleeping in the dungeon). Lastly, it seems to help if you’re 25% gay, but Sam seems to have beat these odds (Kevin thinks his demonic part is responsible for these miscalculations (yes, he’s read Chuck’s books, no he and the Winchester’s never had a chick flick moment (God forbid)). 

\--

Charlie doesn’t want to be rude, but she does a have a de-winged angel wallowing in his own hardness waiting on her upstairs, so she says, “Kevin! Great to meet you, I’ve heard so much!” Then she turns to Dean and asks, “So, um, do you have a printer?” She loves that the elder Winchester doesn’t even question her need for technology anymore and just gives her a straight answer:

“Yeah, of course. Kev, show her will you? I’ll make you guys some coffee.”

\--

Cas has been pacing back and forth since Charlie left and it feels like she’s been gone for hours. He vaguely remembers hearing her scream a while ago, but he wasn't about to run out there with a “raging hard-on,” or whatever Charlie called his situation.

Suddenly the doors opening, and Cas is turning towards it with a smile already in place, grateful to finally rid himself of this issue indefinitely (he hopes). 

Only, it’s not Charlie. 

It’s far from Charlie, actually, it’s Dean. Oh no.

It’s Dean, and Castiel’s stuck - hard, gaping, and wondering if he should go for the pillow or opt for hiding under the bed . . . for the second time today. He’s leaning more to the latter.

Except this time Cas can’t do either of these because it’s Dean in front of him. Beautiful and wide eyed. So Castiel grits his teeth, sighs, and stares, unable to look away from those forest bright irises.

\--

Dean’s thought process can’t fathom this . . . 

Cas has a hard-on. He didn’t even know Cas was sexually like … active!

Cas is hard. Shit.

Castiel. Is friggin’ hard.

Right in front of Dean, just standing there like some pretty thing for his picking.

Looking fucking wrecked, and flushed, and gorgeous.

‘Gorgeous, Dean? Really?’ Dean thinks, his inner-monologue suddenly sounding too much like his father for Dean’s liking. So Dean clears his throat and does what he does best, avoids. Like the plague.

Even though this may be the worst thing he’s been forced to avoid in his whole entire life. No one needs to know that, though.

“Heya, Cas. Need some coffee? Just brewin’ some up . . . so . . .” Smooth _Winchester._ Real smooth.

\--

Kevin shows Charlie to the room, and shows her where to hook up her laptop, but then he doesn’t leave, and though normally she would be more than happy to chat up anybody that Dean introduces as ‘Kevin freakin’ Solo,’ right now she’s trying to print off gay porn and that's kind of awkward. Even for her fangirlin’ openness. 

So she cuts him off in the middle of his sentence and says, “So, um, do you think Dean and Cas should just give it up and fuck each other already?” Yup, good way to clear that up.

Kevin stares at her with an unreadable expression for a moment then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and leads way into a chuckle. 

“I knew I liked you . . .” Kevin says, “Join the club, we call it ‘team-over-the-hump.”

“We?”

“Me, Crowley, and Sam.” _Woah,_ Charlie thinks, even the king of hell is in on the eye-fucking!

Charlie rolls her eyes, unimpressed. Cleary men should never be left to deal with these sort of things, it’s lucky she’s back now.

“And how long has this team been together?” She asks.

“About . . . a year or so,” He answers, suddenly skeptical.

_With good reason,_ Charlie thinks, _a whole fucking year? Seriously?_

“And what tactics have you tried exactly?” She asks next, silently hoping that the boys are just idiots, and this isn’t going to be harder than she thought. 

“Um . . . tactics?” Kevin draws out, confirming her original suspension, which really shouldn’t surprise her. They’re idiots.

“Yes. Tactics.” Charlie hums, “A good plan’s gotta have tactics, A-team style. Duh.”

\--

Kevin smiles, looking down at the screen of Charlie’s laptop “Ah, yes, tactics . . . beautiful tactics of course.”

_God, women are so smart, no one wonder Dean and Sam keep her about,_ Kevin thinks.

Charlie has plans, lots and lots of deliciously meddling plans. Including the completely devious one she’s constructing now, and Kevin can’t help but smile, because Cas and Dean are going to be humping like bunnies in no time with the red-head’s help.

\--

Dean’s already left to make coffee when Charlie returns and Cas finds himself sprawled across the bed, face down in his pillow when she startles him by asking, “How much do you love me Cas?”

He just groans and rolls over, reaching out for whatever she bares, eyes wide with thanks.

She hands over a booklet titled ‘Charlie’s Guide for Dummies: Masterbation Addition,’ and retreats quickly from the room with a thumbs up. Thus leaving Cas with the pleasure of opening it to the first page and thrusting his hand down his pants. 

Only, he’s forced to stop, squint a little bit, and reread; because the first thing that Charlie writes is, “Get your hand out of your pants, and go get some lotion.” 

So he reluctantly stops fondling, and gets the lotion they bought him last week, wondering, _is this why they bought that for me?_

He reads on, “Put that on your hand and use it as lubrication . . . and stroke away, champ.”

He flips to the next page and his jaw nearly drops threw the floor.

“That bitch,” Cas says aloud, but doesn’t stop not even to chastise himself for the cussing.


	8. Masturbation Addition Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's Guide for Dummies: Masturbation Addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!  
>  Hey! So, I got all the fanart used in this chapter of the destiel-tumblr tag, and couldn't find the original artist's for most! If you drew something I used, and want credit, let me know. [=

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2cwkbx2)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2ihm0aw)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=29qjya0)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=1zdrm2d)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=xbweq0)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2cdbak1)


	9. Dead

Cas is laying on the mattress, dead. Quite fucking dead. In all directions. Thanks to his darling best friend.

Cas’s North path is shot to hell. He can’t be a decent human being anymore and pretend his feelings don’t exist. Who could after his frankly heavenly awakening? 

Pretend he didn’t just have his South, East, and West paths all demolished by the, well, just, fuck, the best fucking orgasm ever. Humans, the yeah, the Greeks, they-um-called it that, an orgasm. Cas though, well all angels, have a very different name for it. 

NOR-QUASAHI DRIX DRILPA CAP-MI DRILPI LUCIFTIAN IZIZOP HAMI HOM CAOSG.

Which roughly translates to: _**sons of pleasure bring great power, greater than the brightest, highest vessel of all the creatures that liveth on the earth.**_ It’s basically what happens when angels stick their genitals straight into a human soul. However, the practice of this act fell off in about 300 BC, and seriously started to become frowned upon about 1000 years ago in heaven. But considering Cas just brought himself that kind of pleasure by staring at the beautiful green eyes of the brightest, highest vessel of all the creatures that live on this earth? He thinks such a phrase can be applied in this case. 

He can’t move. Just really can’t do it – he’ll try again later perhaps, once he is done . . . _basking._

\--

Charlie’s sitting at the table, blowing over her coffee, and watching Dean with speculative eyes. Dean, who seems to be, well, Charlie doesn't exactly have a clue at the moment what that love-struck knuckle head is doing.

He hasn’t moved in--she checks her watch--twelve minutes, and he only moved then in order to bring her coffee, set it down on the table, and then retreat back to his spot. This spot which consist of, well, Dean standing, staring at the coffee maker like he’s waiting for it to come to life and pick a fight with him or gift him with some life changing answers (she’s not sure which yet).

She waits another five minutes then deserts her coffee, and strides across the kitchen to join him. He doesn’t seem to notice her though so she clears her throat and asks in tender amusement, “um, should I be expecting some sort of rise of the machines/demonic robot apocalypse? Or a marriage announcement?” 

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin, and after composing himself, he turns to glare at her (not that she did anything)!

“What!” Charlie demands, “I’m serious! What’s with you and this coffee machine?”

“It’s not the coffee machine,” Dean grits out, “It’s nothing. Leave it.”

“Can I take a guess?” Charlie asks, completely ignoring Dean’s little denial, and pulling him by the arm to join her at the table. 

Dean doesn’t answer. She’s taking that as a yes.

She goes on anyway, “I think . . . that you’re having problems, hear me out, and that they may or may not have anything to do with Castiel--”

Dean cuts her off with a wide eye, mouth-open, pink-cheeked expression. It’d be funny if this topic wasn’t so darn serious.

“Right,” Charlie starts, trying not to laugh, “Um, do you want to talk about it?”

Dean swallows hard, looking from her to the direction of Cas’s bedroom and back.

“Um . . . shit -well . . . you see . . .” 

\--

Dean doesn’t quite know what to say. He’s never had to use the words Cas, hard, and bedroom in the same sentence before and for some unfathomable reason, he can’t easily bring himself too.

Literally, his mouth is dry and his brain is blank.

Fuck is seriously the only word flashing through his mind right now. Kind of appropriate considering what he’d like to do to the blue eyed man.

Charlie knows this. Dean can see it her eyes. She’s like some sort of undercover empath, who only reveals her powers when Dean’s wrecked. Upon thinking this, Dean scowls, and collects a few words, “Maybe you should talk to Cas about . . . things.”

“Me?” Charlie questions, “But Dean, he looks up to you, and besides what kind of sane gay man takes life tips from a lesbian, I mean.” A scoff, “come on man.”

“I can’t talk to him about some things.”

“Why ever not?” Charlie asks with very bad mock innocent look.

“Because!” Dean grits out.

\--

Kevin runs into a lazy-smile Cas on his way to the kitchen, who grins even wider as he notices Kevin and greets him by saying, “Hello there young prophet, you are looking extra rested today, and in turn a great more aesthetically pleasing.”

Kevin’s learned this is a compliment and smiles, but he’s not sure what to say back because . . . well, what does someone even say to that?

_I see wanking to images of Dean agreed with you_ and _I called it_ are on the tip of his tongue, but instead he checks himself, and says, “back at ya, Cas. You look like you’ve, um . . . slept well?”

Cas nods, lazy smile still stuck in place, “Indeed, Thank you”

\--

Cas walks into kitchen, still feeling amazing, probably looking ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. He can’t even bring himself to care that Dean, who just saw his boner not ten minutes ago, is standing in the kitchen. He should, though, probably.

Cas heads to the fridge, wanting a beer. It seems like a reasonable thing to partake in. Celebration right? That’s what Dean would suggest. Cas opens the door and looks. 

He frowns.

“Dean . . . um, what is it you do with all the beer?” Cas asks, turning to face Dean.

Dean looks personally affronted for a few seconds, then his face hardens into something unreadable and Cas almost wants to flinch. Dean coughs a bit, and says, “It’s eleven in the morning, Cas, why do you want a beer?”

“Um . . . just feeling . . . I don’t know,” Cas smiles and feels his face heating, not knowing how to explain. He didn’t think he would have to. “You drink beer at eleven all the time.”

Dean smiles awkwardly, and Cas can see the unsaid words in Dean’s eyes. Not like he used to, Cas can’t actually feel what Dean wants to say, but this time he just sort of knows. He can tell Dean’s holding something back, like sadness, and wishes they were alone suddenly. So he could ask Dean about it. Comfort him, even. 

Still smiling, Dean explains, “I’m not drinking at eleven anymore, so I thought maybe we all couldn’t?”

Cas somehow knows he shouldn’t protest, and he suddenly feels warm, and just different altogether. He doesn’t know what to call this new emotion but he’s sure that he’s never felt it before. It’s similar to all the other emotions Dean gives him, but, well, still different. Cas almost wants to compare it to the way heaven feels, but that’s crazy right? Not to mention highly sinful.

Cas realizes with a deep intake of breath that it isn’t crazy. He feels safe and warm and protected and home.

He realizes it’s not the abode that surrounds them producing this feeling, it’s the man in front of him. The most amazing and caring man he’s ever met, who’s still staring straight at him, looking like he would personally go to hell and back just to give Cas this feeling. He has no idea what that means. Dean clears his throat and looks away, and Cas looks down at his toes . “Of course, Dean.”

He opts for orange juice instead.

That new feeling stays, burning brighter when his friend smiles. 


	10. Calm Before the Storm

This is officially intermission time . . .

Go eat some peanuts, or take a piss, or something. 


	11. Plan Destiel's a Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets swept away in a current as Dean falls prey to the effects gravity.

“So . . .” Charlie drawls out, after rubbing her hands over her face angrily. “Team over-the-hump needs new plans. It’s been three months and were still dealing with, well, _that._ It’s so tense in here it’s making my hair frizz!”

Kevin sighs in time with Sam and Crowley, from their places around the dungeon. They all made a hasty retreat down here after an hour of Dean teaching Cas how to make pancakes, and if Kevin has to deal with anymore of Dean and Cas’s sexual tension he’s literally going to impale himself on one of the many swords lying about the bat cave.

“But we’ve literally done everything!” Sam complains, “I’m really starting to think they’re just never going to have sex and we’re going to be stuck with this for fucking ever!”

“Yeah,” Kevin agrees, though, it pains him. “We even slipped some of Becky Rosen-whatever’s smut into Cas’s wank material. If that doesn’t make him want to jump Dean, than I don’t know what will!”

Sam physically shudders, that was not something he needed in his brain. Ugh. But agrees.

\--

Cas breathes in the fall air, he’s just so happy summer is finally dying down. He hates the heat, and now it might be easier to work Cas’s trench coat into a couple of outfits. He thinks Dean will be happy about that. Call it his newly found human intuition. 

As they make their way down the small dirt drive leading to the bunker, Cas listens to Sam and Charlie bicker in front of him. They seem to be arguing about electronics, which Cas could really care less about; he found out his first week living in the bunker that electronics were not his thing (his last electronic escapade ended in sparks and a horrible beeping sound that he doesn’t wish to repeat). Honestly, Cas just likes listening to their voices, he likes hearing Sam get all passionate, and Charlie has one of the largest imaginations Cas has ever seen, which leads to some very well thought out comebacks. Cas stores her wit away for later as he hopes it will allow him to rival against Dean’s wit someday. 

He, Sam, and Charlie all went out to rent movies. That’s something that they do now, every time Charlie comes to visit they have movie marathons - she calls it family movie night, Cas likes that. He likes that he’s part of their family. It started originally when Dean and Charlie realized Cas had never seen Star Trek, then quickly kept continuing as they found out he’s never seen Back to the Future, Harry Potter, or Step Brothers. Cas really liked Step Brothers, Will Ferrell is great. It’s just so stupid it’s funny. Cas nearly cried from laughing so hard during the bunk-bed scene.

Dean, after making Cas watch all his geeky movies, finally started letting Cas pick out whatever he wanted. So tonight, since Dean so generously stayed home and cooked for all of them, Cas picked out—with a little help from Charlie—a few Star Wars movies for Dean, and a movie titled ‘The Perks of Being A Wall Flower,’ for himself; Cas picked the movie solely because the picture on the cover interested him. He hopes it doesn’t disappoint. 

They hide Charlie’s car and stride to the door, Cas having to pull the sleeves of Dean’s sweatshirt over his hands, to cover them from the chilly wind. It’s been nearly three months since Cas fell and he still hasn’t made it back to the mall to pick out more clothes. Charlie’s offered, but he finds he really wants to avoid that place. Besides, Dean’s got enough for both of them, as he keeps reminding Cas (and secretly he enjoys the fact that they’re Dean’s more than anything). Sam opens the door easily by sliding in the key but when the door swings open they are all taken by surprise when they hear Taylor Swift blaring through the bat cave.

“Freaking Crowley,” Cas basically barks, not even bothering to check his pocket for his iPod; hearing _the way you move is like a full on rain storm_ ringing out and is the only conformation he needs. The post demonic bastard must have gotten ahold of it. The freaking man can never keep his hands off Cas’s iPod. _And I’m a house of carts . . ._

Cas, after shoving the movies at Charlie, marches down the stairs to give the former demon a piece of his mind! _You’re the kind of reckless that should send me running,_ taking the steps two at a time Cas reaches the bottom of the steps in no time, and pushes his way past the living room and into the kitchen. _But I kind of know that I won’t get far . . ._

_And you stood there in front of me . . ._ Just as he’s about to yell, Cas is instantly cut short, because it isn’t Crowley blaring Cas’s iPod, its Dean. _Just close enough to touch._ The hunter is the only one in the kitchen, and the music is too loud for Dean to have heard Cas enter the room. So Cas lets himself watch. _Close enough to hope you couldn’t see what I was thinking of . . ._

Dean, seeming so free, sways and sings along with Taylor’s chords. _Drop everything now._ The rough sound of Dean’s deep voice on top of Taylor’s sweet high pitched tones is the best thing Cas has ever heard, he thinks that he might even like it more if Taylor would shut up right now. Please just shut up and let him sing! _Meet me in the pouring rain . . ._

Dean finishes off stirring whatever it is he has cooking and instantly brings the giant spoon up to his mouth as a microphone, and bellows out, _“kiss me on the side walk, take away the pain . . .”_

Cas has never seen this side of Dean before, but he really, really likes it. The hunter looks so carefree and happy, everything that Cas feels while listening to her music. Cas wants to join in, and he knows the perfect chance is coming up, so as Dean continues to sing the chorus, _“cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile,”_ Cas, with shaky hands grabs the spatula off the counter and joins in.

_“Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down,”_ Cas sings out as loudly as he can without his voice cracking. Dean instantly stops his own singing and turns to face Cas with bright red cheeks, and wide eyes. Cas feels his own embarrassment spike, but he isn’t gonna give up yet, he keeps singing, _“Give me something that will haunt me when you’re not around. ‘Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile.”_

Cas, now swaying to the beat, decides to get adventurous and adds some hip swinging to his moves. Still keeping his eyes on Dean, Cas sings. Dean’s still not singing along, but he smiles at Cas at least, “My mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea . . .”

\--

A spark of heat flares inside Dean, and he lets out a bark of laughter, soaking in the sight of Cas attempting to dance before him. It’s probably the worst attempt made at dancing ever, but Dean loves it, somehow it fits Cas; how the other man still manages to look other worldly while wriggling around and humping the air—after having his grace sliced out his throat—is beyond Dean, but he’s managing it.

_“You touch me once and it’s really something,”_ Cas sings, adding in what Dean can only label as a head jig. _“You find I’m even better than you imagined I would be . . .”_

Dean thinks, yes, you really are, before bringing the spoon back up to his mouth and matching Cas on the next words, their voices melting together _“I’m on my guard for the rest of the world, but with you I know it’s no good . . .”_

Cas flashes one of the brightest smiles Dean’s ever seen and glides forward, stopping right in front of Dean; pulling him by the arm and urging Dean to dance as they both sing out, _“I could wait patiently, but I really wish you would drop everything now—”_

Cas kisses Dean then, its slow and passionate, their forms fitting together in the most natural way, and for a second it feels perfectly normal; like them kissing, in that very second, is something unavoidable, something caused by chemical imbalance, gravity, or the alignment of the stars. Whatever it is, Dean’s sure not complaining.

Cas pulls back suddenly, eyes wide, and a small worry showing between his brows. Dean absent mindedly drops the spoon, and slowly wraps his arms around Cas, keeping him in place. Cas is breathing hard and Dean belatedly realizes he is to. Cas’s trembling hand comes to a rest on Dean’s cheek and he thumbs along the bone, causing Dean’s eyes to flutter closed as a shiver runs down his spine. 

The music is still playing in the background, but Dean only hears it as a light hum, sounding from far away. Castiel’s heat and touch and form is sucking him in, muffling the rest of the world around them. He doesn’t even care how chick-flicky his inner monologue is right now.

He opens his eyes only to find that Cas’ have closed, and Dean’s pulled in by the sight of Cas’s dark lashes laying on top his cheeks, and his deep breaths. He leans in, closing the inches between them, fitting their mouths together once more.

\--

Charlie and Sam stand perplexed in the doorway, gaping at the sight before them. They both snap out of it and turn to each other at the same time, ecstatic grins already in place. Fuck plans, this gives them way more ammo in the future. They turn and creep away quietly letting the pair have their moment.

\--

Cas should remember that two people were following behind him, just as Dean should, but Cas is too caught up in Dean. The only thing Cas can compare it to is a current, the kind that’s too strong to fight. Like the currents at the bottom of a waterfall that suck you under and hold you down. The kind of current that if you kick and fight against it will only pull you down faster.

Cas doesn’t kick, doesn’t even try to fight it. 

He lets Dean pull him under, submitting to the smooth feeling of lips on his own, and melting against Dean’s form completely, trusting that he’ll submerge alive eventually, down the river (which he’s really hoping is a bed in reality). His mouth falls completely pliant as Dean’s tongue runs across his bottom lip, and Cas accepts the bumpy feeling of taste buds against his own with a throaty moan. Dean leans further into the kiss at this, and brings one of his hands up to the back of Cas’s head, threading his fingers through the hair and trying to push him closer even though it’s physically impossible. Their bodies are pressed together at every angle, from forehead, to chest, to hips, to toes, and Cas has never felt more solid than he does with the warm press of Dean against him.

Its starts to get sloppy and Dean lets out a moan, moving his focus to Cas’s neck. His rough stubble catches against Cas’s as he starts mouthing at Cas’s jawline, pressing wet kisses all the way down to where the cotton hood meets Cas’s neck. Cas feels his knees go weak and he throws his head back, sucking in a large hissing breath belatedly realizing he hasn’t been breathing at all. 

“Mmmm—God— _Dean,”_ Cas groans helplessly as Dean licks a stripe up his neck, stopping on his Adam’s apple to suck a bit and then he swirls his tongue around the knot, causing Cas to grit his teeth to keep from spilling out pleasured filled profanities. Cas swallows, and realizes his hands have been fisting themselves into Dean’s shirt, he pulls them away only to relocate them underneath the hem. Hands finding the bare skin and gripping down. 

\--

Dean snaps, hands leaving Cas’ face, clamping down on his hips and pulling. Cas is heavier than what Dean’s used to, but it doesn’t seem to matter. His muscles comply willingly, dragging Cas up, and placing him on the counter behind them. Dean slots perfectly into the space between Cas’ parting legs, each thigh resting on one side of Dean’s hips. Cas’ hands come up to rest near Dean’s head; one of them finding the slope of his neck and the other finding the side of his face, thumbing at his jawline. Now that Cas’s waist is unguarded, Dean finds his hands orbiting awkwardly around Cas’s middle, wanting desperately to touch.

Ever attentive, Cas nods into the kiss, at what exactly Dean’s not sure, but it’s enough.

Right as he’s about to remove Cas’s sweatshirt, something hot burns his foot, and he yelps, breaking the kiss.

The spaghetti is boiling over, Dean realizes with a start, planting one quick kiss on Cas’s lips and absently shutting off the stove, and racing to find a towel. Dean locates a small rag and throws it down, kicks it around a bit and then turns back to Cas.

Dean swallows, throat suddenly dry. 

He surges at Cas hands roaming the now bare chest, mouth latching on to something that feels like a cheek. Dean was aiming for the neck but he can’t bring himself to care right now. Cas’s pale skin, dusted in wiry black hairs, tickles Dean’s sensitive fingers and he moans. Dean’s hands wrap around Cas, trailing down his back and he finds himself clawing at the strong muscles he finds there. Dean keeps going, hands meeting with the rough material of Cas’s jeans. Dean slips a hand under each constrained cheek and pulls. Cas’s hips rut forward, the hard line of his cock rubbing against Dean’s stomach. At the contact Cas fucking whimpers into Dean’s neck, his breath catching violently. 

One of Dean’s hands locates Cas’s hardness, just lightly running four fingers up the length. Dean pulls back, and looks at Cas and the bright red mark he just left on Cas’ cheek. Dean smiles and runs a hand through Cas’s sweaty tuffs, asking, “You sure?” _Please, fuck, say yes._

Cas gives him a look like he’s not quite sure if Dean’s telling a joke and he just doesn’t understand it. Eventually, Cas smiles and kisses Dean explaining as he pulls back “Dean, I’ve masturbated thinking about this every day for the last three months. Sometimes twice a day. Thinking of you. I want this more than anything . . . I’m the one who should be asking you.”

“Me?” Dean says, nuzzling closer to Cas once more, “No problems here.”

Cas stops him with hand, pushing him back, “Are you sure, Dean, really . . . I mean, I’ve got,” Cas looks down, it takes Dean a few seconds to realize Cas is staring at his own dick. 

Dean breathes out a laugh, “honestly, okay, Cas,” Dean says because it is. Suddenly, and probably always was. Sure, his dad is still there in his head but the words don’t really make sense anymore. Like the shitty pop music still blaring out of Cas’s iPod, Dean can barely hear it. He kisses Cas then, upon the discovery and then pulls back, his teeth dragging Cas’s swollen bottom lip. Looking Cas in the eye he says, mustering as much feeling as possibly with the words, “I need you.”

Cas smiles, his legs closing around Dean and locking behind his back, pulling Dean in close, “I love you,” Cas whispers.

Dean nods, face suddenly hot and flushing he draws Cas in close and lifts him once more. Laying Cas down on the floor Dean whispers softly “Sorry, but I don’t think I can carry you all the way to the bed and I don’t think I can stand not touching you that long.”

Cas doesn’t answer, just grabs at his shoulders and draws him close.

\--

“I can’t believe it!” Charlie whispers loudly, looking at Sam with wide eyes. “All we had to do was play a little Taylor Swift to get those to humping?”

“It’s incredible,” Sam agrees, looking a little wide eyed. “Hey, she is the youngest person to ever win a CMA, so . . .”

Charlie gives Sam a look. Half amused, half totally teasing. “You would know that.”

“Hey guys,” Kevin says strolling into the room, completely oblivious. “What movies did you get?” He asks, walking towards the kitchen. “Is the spag—“

“No!” Charlie whisper yells, running towards the prophet, and pulling him away from possible disaster. “Plan Destiel’s a go, I repeat, plan Destiel’s a go!”

“Wait—what’s plan Destiel?” Kevin asks, letting Charlie drag him to the living room, confusion plain on his face.

Charlie smirks, “It’s the one where Dean and Cas are totally karaoke-ing to Sparks Fly and making out in the kitchen right now!”

“Oh . . .” Kevin drawls out with a slow devilish smile creeping onto his face, despite the hunger rumbling his belly. “Suckish timing, I’m hungry.”

They sit whispering back and forth for a minute, until Charlie suddenly goes pale, her eyes widening.

“Fuck,” the redhead nearly growls, “Where’s Crowley? One interruption and he could ruin everything! We gotta nab him!”

\--

Dean quickly pulls his shirt off and Cas lets his hands roam the broad expanse of chest above him as Dean settles between his legs, looming over Cas. Dean’s got this look and Cas loves it, the way Dean eyes are crinkling from his slight smile, the way his cheeks are flushed, showing off his freckles. It’s not really Dean’s happy look but it’s not really his sly smile either. It’s in-between, and new: a look Dean’s never given him before. There’s a spark behind his green eyes that excites Cas further; making his hairs stand on end, his throat go dry, and his nipples perk. Cas moans, baring his throat and arching his back. Hands latching on to Dean’s shoulders, Cas pulls him down, bringing their mouths together again.

Kissing is different like this to, with their skin touching. Dean’s bare chest rubbing against Cas’s in the most satisfying way. Every time Dean moves, lapping at Cas’s neck or nibbling on his lobe, the sliding sensation of Dean’s smooth flesh, warms Cas deeper. Until Cas swears he can feel his heart catching alight.

Dean’s steady hands, which Cas still isn’t sure how he’s managing to keep steady, run down Cas’s form, making everything fuzzy. The lightly applied appendages slow near his stomach, dancing over the goose bumped skin and Cas sucks in a greedy breath as they play lower, meeting the top of his jeans.

Next thing Cas knows he’s being gently lifted and his jeans are being pulled down. Cas isn’t sure how Dean’s doing this, considering their mouths are still crashing together perfectly, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. He’ll make Dean teach him that trick later. 

“Ahhnughh,” Cas screams as his eyes fly open, his head colliding with Dean’s as he breaks their kiss to look down; eyes glued to the spot between their bodies. Where Dean’s hand—Dean Winchester’s fucking hand—is wrapped around his bare cock, thumbing the already dripping precum around the head.

“Fuck, Dean,” Cas groans. The feel of Dean’s hand alone is better than anytime Cas has tried this by himself. Cas throws his head back again, head bumping the floor, but he can’t even feel it; not as his hips jerk to action moving at their own accord, thrusting themselves into Dean’s strong grip. 

“You—I—Dean—I’m gonna—you have too—“

\--

Cas fucking cums, his solid shaft fucking beautiful and hard and pulsing under Dean’s fingers. Every one of Cas’ lean muscles tensing under Dean as Cas lets out a deep throaty scream, sending thick white stripes of cum painting his belly and lubing up Dean’s hand. 

Dean slides his sweat pants down further from where he’s been touching himself with his foreign left hand and takes ahold of his cock with the fingers now lined with Cas’s seed and groans at the feeling. Dean watches as Cas falls pliant and quivering, muscles relaxing against the wood floor, and places his other hand on Cas’s heavily falling chest. 

\--

Cas hears Dean on top of him. Doing what, though, he’s not quite sure. Maybe he’ll check when the bright lights stop burning the edges of his vision. However, just as Cas is thinking that he might actually fall asleep before that happens he hears something slick and wet, slapping hard. He forces his eyes open only to find Dean above him; face pinched with pleasure, touching himself with a hand covered in Cas’ semen. Dean starts breathing heavier and he falls forward a bit, other hand supporting himself on Cas’s chest and Cas can’t help but be fascinated by the sight of Dean’s long fingers messing themselves in a pool of Cas’s cum. Cas moans, the sound leaving his throat scratchy and blissed out, just like he feels. Dean’s eyes fly open at the noise and they stay that way has his body tenses, his reddened and thick cock spilling out; shooting across Cas’s chest.

Dean falls on top of him and they stay that way until their breathing evens out, their heaving chests melting together until they’re steady once more. Eventually Dean slides off, curling along Cas’s side, his now chapped lips lining Cas’s neck and jaw with small kisses.

\--

After running around the whole cave, desperately searching for the former demon, they locate him in an abandon bathroom that nobody uses; wearing an apron and plastic gloves, arms elbow deep in the toilet.

Charlie smiles, wipes the sweat from her brow and slides into the bathtub, limbs hanging over the edge. Sam rolls his eyes, still not used to seeing Crowley on his hands and knees, and leans against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. Kevin sighs, sits on the sink, and explains the situation. 

\--

“Well, I certainly didn’t think I’d lose my virginity in a kitchen, laying in tomato sauce, listening to Avril Lavigne, but . . .”

“Oh, God, Cas . . . I’m sorry. Um. Sorry about the hicky on your face too . . . it’s kinda huge, man.”

Cas just laughs, feeling that warm fuzzy feeling from before. Only now he can name it - happy and madly in love.

“It’s okay Dean, I loved it. Besides I’m the one who made the playlist.”


	12. Where to?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotel sex. Mom!charlie.

“Nnnugh, Dean,” Cas growls as he throws his head back and slams it into the thin, horrible, sunflower-covered surface behind him.

Dean just grips Cas’ hips harder in response, pressing his ass into the wall further, looking up at Cas with those damn hooded green eyes. Dean’s red mouth is stretched, and slick with spit, closing around Cas’ cock slowly. 

Dean takes Cas to the base and Cas is forced to growl out some more, his hands finding Dean’s hair as he looks down to where Dean’s lips are being tickled by his own curled hair. 

_Fuck._

“Hotel sex-” Dean growled up, smirk in place. “-you’ll love it.” Little did Cas know how much. 

\--

Dean’s beyond glad that his and Cas’s first trip away from the bunker isn’t due to some monster eating people’s faces off and (as much as it pains Dean to admit) he’s actually a bit excited to be here despite the lack of hunt. However, Dean plans on further continuing everyone’s notions that he is grumpy and here only because he lost a bet.

Because lost a bet is what he did. Even if it was on purpose. They don’t need to know that, however.

God, Castiel looks so fucking hot like this.

\--

Charlie’s pacing around the hotel lobby, checking her watch every few minutes, and occasionally stopping to play with Sam’s hair, fix Crowley’s tie, or make sure Kevin has his shirt tucked in. 

_God_ , Charlie thinks, suddenly cutting out her useless wandering _when did I become such a mother?_

Even within her newly found stillness stemming from frankly frightening revelations, Charlie can’t resist the urge to, once again, check her phone. She sighs. Both from her youth seeming to slip right through her fingers since she’s been hanging around the Winchester’s and because Dean and Cas are now seven minutes late.

Ah well, she knows that she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Besides, Spock knows just as well as she does, someone needs to look after the doofus’s and Charlie thinks she’s one of the few who knows just how to do that.

However, she really does need to get laid again, y’know, preferably before she gets to many stress lines to pick up chicks.

\--

“Ahhhhahh, shit, Cas,” Dean cries, throwing his head back on the unfamiliar mattress, and fisting his hands in the shitty 300 count sheets. 

Cas only sucks harder in response, his cheeks hallowing out as his shiny red lips squeeze around Dean’s straining cock, meeting in the middle with the circle of strong fingers tugging at the base. They quickly learned that Cas has quite the gag reflex, and sometimes tends to choke a bit and somehow manage to cough Dean’s cum out of his nose (it was so fucking funny but _holy shit_ now’s not the time). However, Cas has learned to work around that. Quite beautifully to, if Dean does say so himself. 

Then Cas starts wriggling that damn finger, the one that’s third knuckle deep in Dean’s ass, and Dean swears he didn’t teach Cas how to fucking do that shit. But he loves it. 

Fuck. Does he love it. 

\--

Charlie mentally swears, and checks the time again. Twelve minutes. No one better be dying. 

\--

The hunter’s legs are trembling; yet still completely and utterly open, spread wide, resting on Cas’ shoulders. Cas bottoms out, burying himself inside Dean.

Dean moans and Cas pushes further, then pulls out completely only to dive back in and do it again. And again. And again. Each time he pushes Dean further into the mattress, yet Cas still keeps him in place with his arms, which are locked around Dean’s waist in an almost possessive grip.

And shit. Cas is going to fucking cum. Already. _Shit._ He tries to slow down, but Dean won’t have it. He starts grabbing at Cas’ hips urging Cas forward while Dean pushes back, slamming himself on Cas’s cock. 

“Dean—“ Cas half screams, half cries into Dean’s leg, trying to warn him, trying to do anything besides explode. 

But then the unexplainable, a new and truly fascinating thing, is happening and Dean’s clinching around Cas’s cock. Dean’s own dick throbbing hard, untouched, and pulsing out thick stripes between their bodies.

The next thing Cas knows is brightness, and an inexplicable, overwhelming fuzzy warm high engulfing his very being. 

It couldn’t possibly have been just an orgasm. 

\--

“Finally!” Charlie announces as the two lovebirds stroll guiltily into the lobby. Well, in Dean’s defense, Cas is the only one who’s looking guilty (Dean’s looking rather smug), but they’re still two peas in the same pod now. “I’m impressed! You managed to go all the way in less than fifteen minutes. Man sex can’t be as difficult as it seems, can it?”

Charlie’s asking seriously but she has to hold back a laugh as Cas turns to her; eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Dean, however, merely rolls his eyes and takes Cas by the hand, stating, “You’ve been watching too much Sherlock.” 

“Come on! Aren’t you going to ask me how I figured it out?”

“No, Charlie, when it comes to my sex life I refuse to be your John Watson.” 

“God! You’re just like him, loser!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to this chapter, guys, I think we need to ask the right questions; ignoring the fact that Dean is a slutty bottom and that Charlie thinks she's a British consulting detective . . .
> 
>  
> 
> And instead wonder if the gang isn't hunting then what could they possibly be doing?


End file.
